It Could Get Worse
by BoogityWhup16
Summary: I'm going to fix it, but my computer happens to be packed and I'm moving, and it's all really sad...so work with me. Porfeese
1. Default Chapter

It could be worse  
  
I hated Mr. Ortiz's class, Grammar sucked.   
  
"Ms. Geneva, will you please pay attention."  
  
I hated the way he called me 'Ms. Geneva' and he only did it because he practically dripped sarcasm. I was extremely tired; I had stayed up until 12:00 AM doing homework on a Monday night.   
  
"Sorry Mr. Ortiz, I'm just tired is all ."  
  
"Shame on you," he said, his voice, once again, very sarcastic. "You should know better than to stay up so late, Ms. Rose"   
  
I hated the way he said my middle name, I would have hated that he said my middle name but I liked my name.  
  
"Do you think I could go to Lila to get an Aspirin, Mr. Ortiz? My head hurts."  
  
"Not right now, I think that you should just wait. It's only 15 minutes until the end of the period. So, as I was saying, reflexive verbs..."  
  
I completely tuned him out. My head hurt, I couldn't wait, but I was really tired, maybe I could just close my eyes for a minute...   
  
I had fallen asleep, was my first panicked thought, as I wished that I had just kept my eyes open. I had woken up but I didn't want to open my eyes because I was on the bed in the nurse's office. Wait, I was in the high school, and the nurse's office was in the elementary. Nor could I remember it being so uncomfortable with a heavy, scratchy, wool blanket. Something was wrong but I couldn't put my foot on it. I heard two male voices saying something I couldn't make out.   
  
"Alex, Jose, I'm OK, just please go away. I've no patience and I'm too tired to yell."  
  
I expected to hear the regular "Maleta!" from Jose and the "Chimp!" from Alex, but there was only a very foreign voice saying, "Hey, Cowboy, who are Alex and Ho-se?" I sat up immediately and my eyes flew open.   
  
There was a black kid, kind of short, with big eyes, staring me in the face. "Hey, Jack, she's waken' up!" I was starting to panic and I grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt.   
  
"Then why don't you tell my where I am? A la gran!"   
  
"A'right! A'right! Calm down!"  
  
I noticed, through my panic, that he had a New York accent. This was very unnerving.   
  
He looked scared, "Youse in Manhattan, in da Newsies Lodging house. Now will calm down?"  
  
"No!" I was now completely livid, "Do you realize that in the history of stupid questions, that takes the cake! I'm supposed to be about 2,000 miles to the west and south of here!" I made it more of a statement than a question. The kid was starting to look really scared and called down a flight of worn stairs, "Jack! come now!"   
  
The boy that ascended the stairs had a smart aleck look on his face that I didn't like. He started to laugh, "My my, Boots, youse sointenly has a way wid da goils." Boots didn't even smile, but I was still mad.  
  
"Do you suppose, fathead, that you could tell me what this incompetent little midget can't?"  
  
"An' what would dat be?"   
  
"WHAT YEAR IS IT AND WHY AM I IN MANHATTAN OF ALL PLACES?"  
  
Jack looked slightly taken-aback but answered promptly, "1900, and I found you sleeping on an empty vegetable crate in the Bronx and carried you here."   
  
I would have kept on yelling but I had finished venting.   
  
"Isn't that kind of a long way to carry me?"  
  
Jack chuckled, "Yeah, it is." 


	2. Chapter 2

Disculpame! (translation:excuse me) I'm afraid I forgot the lovely disclaimer that fanfic writers are all cursed with. I'll put it in a bit.  
  
To Sapphy: Thank you so much for the review, it encourages me (cute thing with Race too). Don't worry, it's a pretty good story, not saying 'the best' but it's an OK thing. I'll try and update as soon as possible for each chapter = )   
  
To orangekiwi: you are a dear. Yes, I'm as careful as possible with my spelling.  
  
To Kawaii Julie Sama: Don't worry, I'll update as soon as possible. Thank you for the compliment.  
  
To Moonlights Sundance: I am sorry that Boots got yelled at (he is a cutie pie) but it had to be (sigh) it's part of the story, I do apologize.   
  
Disclaimer~ I do not own Newsies, won't ever (sob) just my characters that have been added. If you even think about sueing me I'll soak ya!  
  
CHAP 2  
  
Now, just to clarify for people who were wondering at the end of chapter 1. I am not fat. Not even 10 pounds overweight. It's just that if you are born at nine pounds you will never be what some people call 'petite'.  
  
"By the way," I said, finally realizing that what had happened in it's essence didn't fase me as much as I thought it would, "Do you suppose you could fetch me some 'regular' clothes?"  
  
I admit, I dress like a skater, so be it. But it wouldn't work very well in 1900.   
  
Boots looked confused but Jack answered, "Yeah, dere are some knickers unduh da bed and you can borrow one of my shirts. But goily, why do youse dress so weird?"  
  
"I'll tell you later" I promised. Boots looked curiously at me while Jack got me a shirt that wasn't a camo tanktop. I turned to Boots who was still standing there looking at me. "Later! now will you two beat it so I can get dressed?" I didn't say it harshly or loud but they went in a hurry anyways.  
  
"Hey Jack,"I heard Boots say as I pulled on my faded black knickers and gray shirt, "She don't sound like she's from da Bronx, does she?" I laughed quietly to myself as I fixed my hair so that it actually stayed away from my face.  
  
"Hey-lo!" I was much more cheerful now, my headache completely gone, "I'm kinda hungry, do you know where I can get something to eat?"  
  
~Point of Veiw change~  
  
Jack fianally got a good look at the girl. She certainly wasn't pretty, with a sqareish face and jaw-line. She also had a extravagantly generous helping of freckles, which were everywhere you looked. On the arms that showed from the rolled up sleeves, many on the face, and even on the bare calves her knickers sported. And----OH MY! Jack wondered how he had missed the flaming red hair, quite a bit of it! She did look freindly enough, Jack noticed, with that sort of 'good morning' smileon and snappy pale blue eyes. His eyes were immediately drawn back to the hair.   
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, with a slight frown.  
  
"Youse head's on fiah!"   
  
At this comment she broke out laughing. "Come on!" she called, with amusement in her voice.  
  
~P. O. V. C~  
  
We arrived at a small restaurant called Tibby's witin 20 minutes and entered.  
  
"Who's da goil Jack? She's doesn't look like she's your type."   
  
This comment threw me slightly but I decided to be my usual self. I walked over to the boy who had said this and promptly introduced myself, "The names Geneva, Geneva Rockeman." I followed this with the most friendly smile I could muster and there was a split second of silence before I added, "And you are?"  
  
"Racetrack." The boy replied, and at my confused look said, "It's what all the guys call me."   
  
"Oh, I see, well, pleased to meet you. Now, who else do I need to meet?"  
  
Racetrack answered immediately, "This here's Mush, Crutchy, Kid Blink, Dutchy, Skittery, Specs, Ten-pin, Snipeshooter, Itey, Bumlets..." and a few others. While I went down the line with my eyes I noticed that they all looked at me strangely.  
  
"Alright!" I said, when Racetrack was done introducing everybody, "What is everybody looking at?"   
  
All of the boys looked sheepish for a moment before Race said, "We usually see Jack wid blonds, dat's all."   
  
I almost went to pieces laughing, "Oh! No, no, no, I'm not WITH Jack, he found me in the Bronx, unconcious, and carried me here."  
  
"Who hit ya?" One of the boys, Snipeshooter I think, asked.  
  
"I wasn't hit, I...um...was kinda sick, had a really bad headache. I fell asleep and didn't wake up for quite a while." I said lamely. "Anyways," I said, smiling, "Who can I bum a meal off of?"   
  
Race stood and volunteered, "Do me da honor?"  
  
"Oh sure!" I said, and joined him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hope you like it so far, questions, reviews, and suggestions are welcome = ) 


	3. Chapter 3

To Sapphy: I completely agree that red-heads rock! We are amazing, and that's all I have to say about that subject. Blue eyes, I heard that guys go for blue eyes (winks and bats eyelashes) or is that us? Anyways, here is the next chap, hope you like it.  
  
Here is the bloody disclaimer: Don't (own newsies), Won't (you please not use Geneva, her being my character), Can't (sue me cause I put up this stupid disclaimer.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
~Race's P. O. V~  
  
I wasn't sure what to think of this girl. She cirtainly wasn't pretty in that sense but she was exactly my hight and looked, good heavens, I didn't know what word to use for it, fun? I turned my attention back to the conversation.  
  
"So, I bet my friend Ji Won Q30 (That's Quetzales, the curency in Guatemala, which is where I live) that Mr. Rabbanales, one of my teachers, would get my other friend steffie in trouble by next period. Easiest Q30 I ever made."  
  
"What? what did you say?"  
  
Geneva looked confused, "I said, I bet my-"  
  
"You bet?"  
  
" 'Course! doesn't everybody? besides, she always get into trouble, it was almost unfair."  
  
"Do youse like hose races?" I was doubtful, but I noticed that she was grinning.  
  
"I love them!"   
  
I knew it! Fun was definately the right word. I asked her to go with me to the sheepshed for the afternoon races.  
  
P. O. V. C. (Geneva)  
  
Race looked really nice, and I started to open up fast, which sometimes I just do unconciously, so when he asked me to accompany him to the races I was eager, I had never seen one live, just on TV, but I liked them.   
  
Me and Race ended up at the sheepshed right after Tibby's so there was no time for the explination that Jack and Boots wanted. I figured it could wait for later.  
  
"So, which one are you betting on?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, maybe Shirley."  
  
"Which one's that?"  
  
"The one on the far left, I'm going to go place my bet."  
  
"Don't," and at the contorted look he gave me, I added, "I mean, bet with me. If Shirley wins, I will help you with your papes tomarrow, no profit on my part. But..." I was thinking quickly, I hated when people gambled against the house, they almost always lost. "If Lightningbolt wins, I'll still help you with your papers but I keep the money I earn." I had gotten the name from listening to an old man behind us. From the smirk on his face I was afraid that I had chosen unwisely.   
  
"A'right, sure, whatever you want."  
  
Crap, this wasn't good, I hated that look, it was kind of cockey, as if victory was near at hand no matter what. The worst part was, I was more than likely that he would win. When the race was on I thought for a long time that I was totally screwed and I would be stuck helping Race for nothing, but when the two horses that we had bet on were neck and neck I started to sweat. It was almost impossible to tell which one was first for the longest time but when the winner was announced I was astounded. It was Lightningbolt.   
  
"YES!" I shouted, jumping up, "YES-OW!" I was immediately assulted by a stabbing pain in my lower back.  
  
"What's wrong?" Race asked, his face worried.  
  
"I have this spot in my lower back," I tried to explain, "Where the muscles tighten up rea-"  
  
"Yeah, a muscle spasm, I know how dat feels, hoit like heck, don't dey?"  
  
I was a bit surprised, people in 1900 didn't know about that stuff, did they? Race seemed not to notice my surprised look and stood up.   
  
"It might get woise and you won't be able to sell wid me tomarrow." He said with a wry smile, "Let's get you to the lodging house, BEFOAH it gets woise."   
  
After this comment he half-carried me to the lodging house and set me on the one bed that didn't have a top bunk.  
  
"Now," He sounded uncomfortable, "Untuck youse shirt and move it up to...here." He pointed gingerly to the middle of my back.  
  
"Righto," I said quickly, not caring about anything but taking away the pain.  
  
P. O. V. C.  
  
Race was getting nervous, he had rubbed Mushes feet and ankles when he sprained them once but he had never rubbed anyone's back that he knew, let alone a girl. He looked at her and didn't want to, but he knew she was in pain by the sharply drawn breaths whenever she moved. He started rubbing her back softly, he didn't know what girls could take.  
  
"Oh! for goodness sake, Race! Rub like a man!" Race caught something in her tone that made him relax.  
  
"A'right, calm down." And he started rubbing like he did when he worked for his uncle. Geneva relaxed immediately.  
  
"So," she started, "Where did you learn all of this?"   
  
"My uncle lived in Asia for a while and he learned acupunture and stuff like dat. He could get rich guys to pay him for that stuff and he taught me how to do it so he could get more money."  
  
"That would explain a lot." She answered. "And where is your uncle now?"  
  
"He died 'bout 4 years ago. Hepititus, or something like dat."  
  
"I'm sorry," Geneva said, uncomfortably "I didn't know."  
  
"Nah, it's a'right, I really didn't like him that much, family, you know, but we didn't get along at all. I was mad at myself cause I was almost happy to see him go." Race almost slapped himself. He had never told anyone that before, why did he just tell a girl he didn't even really know.  
  
"Oh," she sounded sad, "well, you did learn something from him, didn't you?" After a short silence Geneva asked, "I know you don't know me very well, but would you be sorry if I died?"  
  
That jolted Racetrack for a moment. "Yes," he said truthfully, after a moment of thought, "I would be sorry if you died."  
  
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End of chapter 3, hoped you liked it. Suggestions, ideas, and reviews are welcome. 


	4. Chapter 4

This is chapter 4 to those who are confused with my chapter order. My computer is screwed up (sighs) as is my life. But I won't go into that now. Now for the reviews = )  
  
To Kawaii Julie Sama: Really cool about your dad!! My dad works with coffee farmers, but enough about me. Thanks for the kind review! And, be patient, you will find out who the couple will be...breath in, breath out.  
  
To Alexandra Paige: Goodness!! I had no idea I was so horrible! I'll definately make note of it. I do so thank you for the info regarding the name! I didn't know! truely I didn't! So I hereby change my official penname to 'Spazjoslyn14'. Don't worry, she's not a mary-sue, she just sort of acts like if for a while.  
  
To sphinxx: Love the name! very cute! Andyways (and yes I spelled that as intended) I would love to try and weasel the charac in but I will need the names of all the stories she's in (I want to try and get the character right!)  
  
To Moonlights Sundance: You're darn right they don't make a good couple! I don't think anyone could be more mary-sueish! It's hard to watch. And, yes, the reason they don't make a good couple is she's not Jack's type. Just to clarify. And, if he does like a brunette she would not be even slightly mary-sueish (sorry, I gots a thing against them = ) but only hard core MS's)  
  
And now, the moment we've all been waiting for.............................  
  
The DISCLAIMER (does the 'hail the conquering hero' thing)  
  
I *sob* DON't own the NEWSIES (starts doing the Soap Opera thing where they say something REALLY.....EMPHASISED for no REASON) And I will *cries histerically* NEVER own the newsies....*voice trails off* and since I'm only 14 *starts hyperventalating* I don't have ANY money so DON'T sue ME *faints*  
  
It Could Get Worse  
  
Chapter 4  
  
~Geneva's point of view~  
  
Almost out of the blue I noticed how his hands felt, rough, like he had worked all of his life, but strong and firm. I also noticed that he was rubbing much gentler than he would have if I was someone else. I was quite silet for a minute and then- "AAAIIIIIEEEE!" I was shrieking from a pain in my back that was almost indescribable.  
  
"I'se guessing dat's da spot?" Race asked in a timid voice. I could bearly make out what he was saying, I was about to pass out. When I could talk again, which was about 40 seconds (but felt like minutes at least) I turned over on my back and looked at him and squeaked "Yeah, that might be it." I sat up and started re-tucking my shirt, "HEY!"  
  
"What? What's da mattah?" Race asked in a worried voice.  
  
"The pain's gone! I don't know how you did it but thanks loads Race!" I was grinning by now.   
  
"Hey, Race," I said, on our way down the stairs of the lodging house, "Do you know any nonsense songs?"  
  
"What do ya mean?" He asked uncirtainly.  
  
"I mean like songs with simple tunes and words that don't make any sense. Do you like those?"   
  
"I don't know as I've evah hoid one."  
  
I almost fell over, I was astounded, how could this be? This was unheard of!  
  
"Well then!" I exclaimed loudly.  
  
"Well then what?" He asked.  
  
"Well then, I've got to teach you some!" And with that I dragged him out of the lodging house singing the stupidest song I could think of (this, of course, supplied by my hero, Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales and his amazing show 'Silly Songs with Larry').   
  
P.O.V.C  
  
Jack had wanted to ask about Geneva all day but she had dissapeared with Race, most likely going to the tracks. Jack thought that she had looked like she was enjoying herself. He smirked inwardly and turned to ask Boots, who was seated right next to him, if he had seen Geneva or Race at all when they both burst into Tibby's, singing at the tops of their voices. Jack didn't recognize the tune, not to mention the words, something about pirates who didn't do anything and painting dasies on red rubber balls (courtesy of Larry, once again). They were laughing their whole way through it and he started getting worried after they hadn't stopped in the full 15 minutes they had been in Tibby's.   
  
Jack walked up to the blooth they had taken and grabbed Race by the sholders. "Are you two drunk?" And both of them fell out laughing again. Geneva slid right off her chair and Race started to hyperventilate. Geneva was the first one to speak.  
  
"No Jack, we aren't drunk but..." She started to laugh again and turned to Racetrack "My, but don't his eyebrows look like starved catipillers?"  
  
Jack frowned but was unaware of the fact that he did so comically. That sent them off again. Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. when he finnally got them to calm down enough to explain they were still giggling. (A/N. I know you'll say that Race 'doesn't giggle' but it's just that Race doesn't giggle all the time but he's really cute when he does.)   
  
"Sorry, we started off at a block from the lodging house and we haven't been able to stop since!" Came the response from the still red-in-the-face Geneva.   
  
When they did stop giggling all togeather Race looked at Geneva, straitened up and gave Jack a look of mock dispair. "I owe Red 'bout half of my papes! She picked the winnin' horse!" The said eyebrows in need of nourishment went up in surprise and Jack turned to Geneva.   
  
"So, Youse got a sellin' partner and name in the same day. Dat's a good start."  
  
Race and 'Red' both looked at each other and their eyebrows (not in need of nourishment, I assure you) shot up.  
  
"I didn't even notice you had given me one!" she exclaimed to Race.  
  
"Well," Jack intoned "It goes poifect foah youse Red!" Then he rembered what it was he wanted to ask. "So, how did youse get heah anyways?"  
  
Red's face fell. She looked like she was blushing, it was hard to tell under all those freckles.   
  
"I, um," She started lamely, "I happen to be in what some could call about 103 years from now."   
  
Jack just stared at her, trying to grasp the meaning of the words she had just said, and Race looked pale, if not a little green around the gills. "Um," Jack started, a little unsure of himself, "Youse not from around heah, I gots dat, but what, egg-zac-tic-ly do youse mean '103 yeahs from now'?"  
  
"I mean that perhaps if I told you what that really ment you WOULD think I was absoloutely, completely, rip-roaring drunk?" She ended this like a question, but Jack could tell it wasn't.  
  
"Jus' tell me and I'll try to undustand."  
  
"Righto, um, I live in the year 2003, I don't know how I got here but I kinda time-traveled."   
  
"Kinda, goily, ain't the woid foah it!" Race had gotten his voice back, and most of his regular color and he wasn't letting any of it go to waste. "Kinda is when you half-check to see wheather youse got a spot on youse face, kinda is when you gets in trouble wid Kloppman and youse gots to clean the bunk-room but you only sweep unduh some of da beds and youse says 'I did sweep unduh da beds, kinda', what youse talkin' about ain't KINA!" His face was red now and he looked like he was ready to go into histerics.  
  
~P.O.V.C~  
  
I was quick to try and calm him down, "I'll tell you everything if you just shut up! can you do that for me Race?" I looked at him hard and he just nodded. "Alright, I live in 2003, you're there with me so far, right Race?" I double checked his face to make sure his eyes weren't glassing over, "There are Automobiles everywhere, almost no one uses horses anymore. The streets are almost bigger but more crowded. A dinner at a cheap restaurant is about 5 dollars and just about everyone had that kind of money. Some people have started building something that can fly from New York City to the other side of the world in about four hours. There have been about 3 people on the moon, and there is so many things that we have invented to save time that we have ourselves painted into a corner, so to speak." The last scentance was just me half-venting. "But," I continued, "I am not entirely sure that the future is really better than now so I would really appriciate if you would let me stay with ya'll untill I find a way to get back. And no questions, and none of this to the others, unless I tell them myself. Got it?" Jack and Race just nodded numbly.   
  
"Alrighty then!" I said, using one of the phrases that made the Korean-girl cliqe back at home look at me strangely, "Seeing as how it is around 6 right now, what do 'we' as Newsies do?"  
  
Jack looked at Racetrack and then they both looked at me and smiled a smile that made me feel nervous, "Guy's," I warned, "What's up?" and at that, they dragged me off.  
  
****************  
  
Hope you liked it! Yes, I know it was long but the next on will be...um...it depends on the situation. But, I will definatly answer your reviews and ask any question you want! 


	5. Chapter 5

Hey-lo! here are some answeres to the reviews!!  
  
To Sweetgall: What a coincidence! He appears for the first time in this chapter!! Don't worry, I would never forget Brooklyn, that's just unheard of, blasphemous, is what it is.  
  
To Kawaii Julie Sama: I did tell them I'm from the future and for a good reason. But, that reason actually happens to be included in this chapter so read away and find your answer. As for couples, I don't know as there's more than one (laughs evilly) and that one is either obvious (you can definately tell who's stuck on who already) or you need a bit of a nudge, which doesn't really come in this chapter except for a hint, yes, you heard me, ONE hint!  
  
To Sapphy: I did think I should have gotten major points for The VT reference, but I wanted a second opinion. I would have liked the hat, by the way, (sulks momentarily, but brightens soon afterwards) but that's OK. Do be careful of those soup nazis (shudders). Do have a lovely day, my dear!  
  
To kiwiorange: Yeah, don't talk to me about spelling Ji Won, I'm workin' on it!  
  
To all of my readers out there, this chapter is rated PG, so, if you happen to be really innocent, don't read this, see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil!  
  
~Disclaimer~  
  
Disney sucks, basically because I don't own newsies. Life bites, because I never will. I hate you, but you can't sue me so there nah nah nah nah nah nah!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"So, you guys," I asked, "Where, exactically, are we going?"  
  
Jack looked like he would've liked to tell me but only smiled and kept his lips completely sealed.  
  
"So, Red," Jack sounded like he was changing the subject, and he was. "Why, exactically," I glared at him for mocking me and he ignored it, "Did youse even TELL us youse was from da future?"  
  
"Well," I said slowly, thinking about why I had told them, "First off, I'm a horrible liar; you would've known right away if I had tried to make up a story. Second, I hate lying in the first place, because people can tell that I'm lying they really hate me for it, like they think that I think they are stupid. Once, I almost ruined a friendship like that."  
  
there was a short silence as we walked on, none of us saying anything.  
  
"So, where are we going?" I finally asked, just to break the ever more thickening silence.  
  
"We's going to Brooklyn so youse can meet Spot Conlon." Jack said with a strange smile on his face.  
  
"Who the heck is Spot Conlon?" I asked, and was disturbed by their laughter. I understood that laughter later.  
  
At the end of the long, but pleasant walk, we arrived in Brooklyn and started moving towards the docks where, my preasent company told me, the 'King of Brooklyn' presided.  
  
When I was finally introduced to Spot I knew I didn't like him, and it would take a heck of a lot to make me. He had an extremely arrogant expression on his face and I knew from his eyes, he thought anyone who didn't know he was in charge would soon be taught the hard way.  
  
I was, however, furious, when the rather thin boy took one look at me and said, "So, Jacky-boy, who's your new bitch?"  
  
"Speak for yourself, Butthole!" I stated quite plainly, and looked him right in the eye.  
  
I don't like to back down from fights, especially ones with boys like this. I hate it when people act like that when they don't know a person. It pisses me off considerably, to say the least. But, Jack could see the anger in both of our eyes and started the introductions as soon as possible.  
  
"Spot, dis is Red, our new Newsie. Red, this is Spot."  
  
But me and Spot weren't really listening. We were right in each other's faces at this point.  
  
"Jacky-boy," Spot sneered, not even glancing at Jack, but looking me up and down. "I think you'd bettah teach dis one moah manna's."  
  
"BITE ME!" I shouted, my face only inches from his.  
  
Spot gave me a look that could have curdled a gallon of milk, but I was too angry to notice.  
  
"Shut. Up. Slut." He said, emphasising every word.  
  
"MAKE ME!" and with this, us being on the docks, his back to the water and only about a foot and a half from the edge...  
  
"This is almost too perfect.", I thought to myself.  
  
I smiled wickedly and pushed him, hard. I then watched, with great satisfaction, as the King of Brooklyn was immersed in the murky water, and walked off.  
  
When I was about 20 feet away I heard Spot being hauled out of the water and shooting a string of foul words in my direction.  
  
"You want a second helping, bucko!" I shouted, as I turned around to look at the drenched Spot Conlon.  
  
"Bring it on!" He practically screamed, and he looked like he was about to start swearing a blue streak but I intervened.  
  
"You're not worth my time!" I yelled as I turned back around and started dragging Mush with me and stopped; I was wearing my blue 'Girls of Grace' t- shirt underneath the one Jack had lent to me. I grudgingly admited to myself that even though Spot really did get what he deserved I shouldn't have done it. I whipped off my grey shirt and threw it towards him with a sigh.  
  
"Here you go! Dry off!" I straitened out my 'Girls of Grace' t-shirt and walked off.  
  
The boys started after me after I had walked about a block. We walked another two blocks in silence before Boots blurted out, "Dat was amazin'! I've never seen anyone do dat and a GOIL just did!"  
  
Just then, Jack doubled over with laughter. "Well, Youse cointenly gots enough spunk Red." He said when he had stopped laughing. "But try and push it on someone who desoives it a little bit moah? Say da Dalancy bruddas?"  
  
I had heard of them in one of my conversations with Race, and I nodded my head slightly, "Yes," I replied hesitantly, "Perhaps you're right, but he had no right to talk to me that way!"  
  
"Red," Jack had a small smile on, "I do think moah people oughta tell him dat."  
  
~Spot's Point of View~  
  
I was still furious. I, the leader of all the Brooklyn Newsies was beaten by a 5'3 red-headed guttersipe of a GIRL who didn't even dress like one! I most likely would've heard wisecracks from my boys if they didn't know better, they kept it to where I couldn't hear. I had heared Jack laughing 3 blocks off and kept up being mad untill one day when I went to Tibby's on an errand. I was looking for one of the older Brooklyn boys who had gotten drunk the night before and went missing. When I entered Tibby's, Red was climbing onto a table and making announcements all over the place. It looked really wierd and I was kinda curious so I sat down at a table near the door and watched.  
  
She had picked up a pape that someone hadn't sold and was waving it around like a flag and talking about an interview. At that, some of the guys started cheering, a few groaning, but only good-naturedly. Several of the guys took off their shirts, left with only they undershirts, and these Red stuffed under her own shirt so she looked like she was 40 pounds heavier. Race then surrendered his vest and his cigar (much to my surprise), and Specs gave her his bowler. It all happened really fast and when Red was done she looked like a pompus old man.  
  
A couple of the tables had been pushed togeather and cleared so Red started pacing back and forth with one eyebrow raised, and kept doing this for about 15 seconds untill she saw me.  
  
"Ladies," She said, pointing at the table Race, Blink, Jack, and Skittery were sitting at and there was a round of laughter and cat-calls. "And Gentlemen." She pointed at the table David and Les were seated at, and there were more cheers.  
  
"Wait a sec!" Shouted Race, standing, and everybody wasn't listening untill he said, "Red knows foah a FACT dat I ain't no goil!" And then there was some REALLY loud cat-calls (that I joined), while Red's face turned a bright tomato color.  
  
"Down in front!" Red yelled, throwing a bread-bun his way.  
  
"As I was saying, Ladies and Gentlemen, today I'm going to introduce you to a man of great honor and standing. A man always know as patient and generous to a fault." Red took the cigar out of her mouth and shot me a broad grin, "The King of Brooklyn, SPOT CONLON!"  
  
There was loud cheering as I was forced to the front of the room and sat down in a chair next to Red's, which was situated on the table.  
  
"Now, before I begin, Mr. Conlon, how is it you happen to be traveling throught the little, lonely, out of the way piece of country known as Manhattan?"  
  
Red was greeted with a shower of bread crumbs and napkins from surrouding tables. I was still a little mad but I looked at her and instead of anger, which was the only thing I had seen on her yet, I saw fun and, hopefully for me, forgiveness.  
  
"I came to see the prettiest goil dis side of da Brooklyn Bridge!"  
  
I could see something in her face that told me she knew I was doing it on purpose. She didn't take the bait though and went strait into jokes.  
  
"Besides the lovely ladies at that table," She again pointed at Jacks table again, "I don't know of any on this side!" There was a round of chuckles, it was well known Jack was still really sweet on Sarah.  
  
I smiled and turned back to the questions Red was asking me. It took about 15 minutes of some small talk and jokes for her to find out all the news in Brooklyn and then she finished up.  
  
"Let's give Spot a round of applause!"  
  
I smiled, despite myself. Just as fast as she had changed into an old man, she changed out of one and after a flick of her wrist that sent Spec's bowler fling into Les's hand and re-tucking her shirt she looked like Red again. This was not the Red I had seen four months earlier. This Red was even more freckled (if that was possible) and thinner. She also had much more muscle on her upper arms and was...um...stacked? Her hair was also cut to just at her chin but the remaining hair was Redder still than it used to be.  
  
She had already climbed off the table and turned back to me as I climbed down and gave me a broad smile. Red spat in her hand and held it out to me. "Forgive me?" was all she said.  
  
I smiled, something about her was genuinely friendly, I couldn't be too mad any more. I spat in my hand and we shook. Apparently, everyone had heard about our fight on the docks and there was a moment of stunned silence before there were some "Good on ya Red" 's and a few "Go Spot!" 's.  
  
We both headed over to Jack's table where Red made a show of slapping Race as hard as she could.  
  
"That wasn't funny!" She said to Race, not even a hint of a smile on her face.  
  
I had seen some of the guy's with their girls but I wasn't prepared for what came next. "Oh, you knows I's just yoah friend goil!". I had thought they were togeather, but I guess I was wrong. Not something I like to admit.  
  
I did have to talk business with Jack so I signaled to Boots to get out of the chair next to Jacks and sat. According to Jack, the Newsie had managed to make it all the way into the lodging house before passing out and Red had taken care of him all night. It had been raining and she had been afraid he might be sick from the wiskey and walking all that way in the freezing rain. Jack said that Red had let the boy take her bunk and stayed up with him. I was surprised and said thank-you to Red before asking that my boy be sent back to Brooklyn when he woke up.  
  
*************************  
  
PPPLLLEEEAAASSSEEE review! whenever you read this! whoever you are! I just live off of reviews so if I don't get any I'll die! And make it a lot, if you would, just review, quick blurb (short sentance to say what you think of it), that's all I'm askin'! You might want to read a so-far short fanfic called "Loud and Absoloutely Nuts!", and no, it was not written by me! Just thought you might like it. The first chapter isn't very funny but the second (which I know for a fact will be comming out soon) is good. So just add the author to your alert, she's good. But don't abandon me entirely! As I said before, Read and Review! 


	6. Chapter 6

Shout Outs!  
  
To Wisecracker88: I don't have the slightest clue what you said so I'm just going to say thank you for the review and I'll ask you at school what you were talking about.  
  
To Sweetgal1: I know, I didn't like him in that chapter either but he's one of the goodguys. He's OK, it was just that one confrontation. Interesting is my middle name by the way, just thought you should know.  
  
To kiwiorange: I can and did push "your" Spot, but don't worry, I won't hurt your boytoy any more Ji Wonese = )  
  
To Kawaii Julie Sama: Yes, time does pass, I'm sorry I left that out, I was kinda preoccupied when I wrote it and didn't mention the time passage untill the middle of the chapter. I'll try and do better next time.   
  
To Sapphy: I know, I'm cruel, but I thought it was a pretty good fight scean, anyways I AM going to make him nicer but not by popular demand, I just wanted to. I kinda like him myself, not as much as Race, of course (that's impossible) but he's cool so I'm gonna keep him around as a nice guy.  
  
To all of you readers I'm gonna put some song stuff in here, IT IS NOT A SONG-FIC just so you know, but some songs I know would go beautifully in this thing so I will do my best to just incorporate it as naturally as I can.  
  
Disclaimer: You all know what goes in this slot so I'm just not gonna bother, but I do wonder if an implied Disclaimer works as a "not guilty" in the court-room. Oh, well, I might as well go ahead. Here we go....  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Red's Point of View  
  
I was more pissed this morning than I'd ever been in my entire life. I was woken up early by Jacky-boy, yes, practially my big brother but it was bad timming on his part. This is kinda how it went.  
  
Jack: Red! time to get up! We'll be late!  
  
Me: UP YOURS!  
  
Jack: What?  
  
Me: Go away! I'm not getting out of bed and that's final!  
  
Jack: Do you want me to take you into the washroom and clean out your ears with cold water?  
  
Me: I said, GO AWAY!  
  
Jack: RRREEEDDD!!!  
  
Me: FINE!!!  
  
I dragged myself out of my bunk with all of the sarcasm and indignation I could muster and shlumped over to the washroom to change my shirt. It couldn't get any worse, I had PMS and I was hot and was that a heat wave?   
  
I moved out of the washroom and followed Jack outside and down to the Distribution center.   
  
It was now undisputably summer or my name was Abraham Lincon. I think the looks nice and all but this was unbearable and I hate this smoggy, humid, sticky heat.  
  
"Good-mornin' Red!" someone in the crowd yelled, it was Crutchy.  
  
"It's not good, but it sure as heck is morning!" I yelled back, aggrivated by the mear sound of anyone's voice.  
  
I could hear Crutchy start to mumble and turned away. I was then accosted by Race.   
  
"Youse goona sell wid' me?" he asked   
  
I was so not in the mood to do anything with anyone but I agreed...on one level or another.  
  
"Yeah, whatever.." brilliant agreement, huh?  
  
He raized one eyebrow quizzically, "You a'right Red?"   
  
I almost shouted but I managed to keep my voice calm "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I mean, I was so gently awoken by Mr. Kelly and it just HAD to be horribly hot!"  
  
Race looked annoyed but said nothing.  
  
But, at this time Blink, being the wit that he is stated something only Race, Jack, and I didn't, by this time, already know.  
  
"They jacked up the price! You hear that Jack? Ten cents a hundred! You know, it's bad enough that we gotta eat when we don't sell, now they jack up the price! Can you believe that?"  
  
Well, what I said next is unrepeatable and, therefore, lost forever to the sands of time, but Jack was sure surprised.  
  
~P.O.V.C.~  
  
Race  
  
Dear me, she was grouchy today. I know she had a reason but we are friends. I don't know if it's just a girl thing but she's making me mad just by looking at me. I don't know if I can sell all day with her. She's this close to getting a soakin' from me.  
  
I was going down to Mid-town with Red to help round up that bourough and I was skeptical, Red's attitude was not helping. She made one more wisecrack and I whirled around.  
  
NARRATION WRITING  
  
Race looked hard at the girl who had quickly become his best friend in the short time she had spent at the lodging house.   
  
She was fingering the slingshot Spot had given her when she had helped him out with a friend of his who was in trouble (Red and Spot were good friends now but not as good as Race and Red were). She had all of her hair braided to one side of her head so it hung down her shoulder.   
  
Race knew she was his best friend but was quickly becomming an annoyance this morning. He had held it in the best he could but about 10 minutes after that wisecrack he couldn't take it any more. Race was going to yell full blast at her but he just noticed that she had started singing.  
  
Stranded in the middle of a hurricane,  
  
I've got an unbrella but nowhere to stay  
  
Do I give up now or do I face the cold  
  
I'd better get some boldness....  
  
Lookin' to the left I see it comming  
  
I'm alone and I'm scared and it's heading my way  
  
Do I run, do I hide, do I dare close my eyes  
  
Do I face the fear inside....  
  
Time after time  
  
I keep runnin' back to   
  
Keep runnin' back to you  
  
I realize this time   
  
That I'll be fine  
  
Even if the stars fell like rain  
  
Even if tomarrow never came  
  
Even if the world I know should crumble  
  
Nothing's gonna stand in my way  
  
Even if the sun left the sky  
  
And even if these tears never dry   
  
Even if the mountains fall and tumble  
  
If what's left of me is taken,  
  
I will not be shaken...  
  
Race had never heard that song before, but he guessed where that came from  
  
"One of dose songs a long time from now?" He winced at his words, he like having Red here, it was almost unthinkable now, what she had told them. She fit in here, she belonged.  
  
"Yeah, it's buy a group of girls. Zoegirl, I think that's what they're, I mean, what they will be called." She sort of brushed the comment aside, she didn't like even thinking about home. She loved her family and missed them but...she...belonged here.  
  
"I like the woids, it's kinda like what's goin' on right now, idn't it?"  
  
Red, for the first time that morning, smiled, "Yeah, that's what reminded me of the song."  
  
Race faked a look of shock. "Dear me! She smiled!"  
  
Red laughed, a real laugh, she couldn't be mad at Race for too long, no matter how she tried.  
  
"She's back! bring out the chanpagne! we'll celibrate!" Race yelled  
  
Red grabbed Race's hat and took off towards Mid-town.  
  
"Get back heah wid da sacred hat!" Race said laughing...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yes, I know, that's it, but it should get better next time. Thanks to all of you who reviewed, I know my chappies are long but I's workin' on dem!  
  
Now, instructions, you take the little arrow and you move it around till you get to the little purple button that says "Go" with a "Submit Review" right before it.   
  
You make sure that the little arrow thingy is on the "Go" button and then click!  
  
You then make use of the little window that pops up (don't be afraid, it 'pops' on purpose) and write to me and tell me what you think about this chappie! Go on, it's not so hard, you can do it! *cheerleaders accompany this statment with a series of formations that can't be seen by any of you, (lucky you) and really stupid cheers* 


	7. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Shout outs!  
  
Well...there really were no REVIEWS, just oppies (opinions) on which one I should do....and the final vote is....  
  
Me1: No! wait that's wrong! do a recount!  
  
Me2: Whatever, You know what you want to do!  
  
Me1: I don't, I'm paralyzed by indecision!  
  
MeReg: Oh, dear, those two again. I was about to say I that I am going to do number 3 first, and then, possibly, I will do number 2 aswell. I know it sounds odd but It's only a theoretical, I'm going to at LEAST do number 3. Sorry to youse who wanted number 2 or one *_* (eyes red from crying) I feel your pain!  
  
Disclaimer: *is being dangled by her feet over a pit of lava by our friendly neighborhood Balrog* FINE FINE FINE!!!!!!!!! I don't own Newsies! Are you HAPPY now? *The Balrog mutters and puts her back in her swivel chair, she straitens out her shirt, checks her hair, and continues typing*  
  
Chapter 7/8 = )  
  
The trip to Mid-Town, while better than selling on such a hot day, was entirely fruitless. The leader Rafael, wasn't on the best of terms with Jack, and since he didn't know what Spot was going to do (though that was purely implied) he refused to help at all.  
  
Truth be told, he wasn't on the best of terms with Red either, so nothing, really, could've helped the situation.  
  
Back at the square, Red, Race and the others were waiting for Jack and word of what Spot was going to do. The great dissapointment of Jacks words was soon brushed aside at the mayhem that ensued.  
  
When everyone had left the Distribution Center after trashing the place, Red looked around frantically for Crutchy. Finding nothing, she found Race and proceeded to beat the crap out of him.   
  
"How could you leave him like that?" Red shouted between trying to punch the frantically dodging Race.  
  
"You've known him longer than I have and I know how he is, how he gets carried away. You know that!" Up till this point Race had managed to block all of her swings but the fist with a ring on the index finger connected and Race was left with a large cut on his cheek.  
  
Race sat on the steps of the lodging house with his face in his hands for an hour and a half before Red came back over and sat next to him.   
  
"Oh, gosh Race, I'm sorry!" Red said quietly. Race pulled his head up to look at his friend and noticed Red's sharply drawn breath. She immidiately stood him up and gave him a hug, his still slightly bleeding cheek staining her grey shirt  
  
"Will you forgive me if I bandage that cheek?" Red asked anxiously.  
  
Red looked into Races eyes and realized, in horror, that he had been crying. for the first time in six months Red started crying as well.   
  
"Oh, Race, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I was just angry, you didn't do anything wrong, it's not your fault." And so it continued, with Red trying to console Race. That is, untill she started washing his cut, then they were both yelling.   
  
"OOOOWWW!!!!" Race yelled and jumped back, only succeding in banging his head on the cupboard behind him.  
  
Red's eyes flashed, "All of Manhattan can hear you! and if you don't stop moving you're going to hurt yourself more!" Red tried to make him sit still while she applied a clean towel with alcohol on it to his cheek.   
  
It didn't work. Race dodged the gowel and ran to the other end of the room, holding his cheek.  
  
"Come back here!" Red yelled  
  
"No way in hell!" Race yelled back.   
  
Red threw the towel down on the sink and ran towards Race, stopping two feet from him, dropping down and kicking his legs out from under him. Race fell hard and Red jumped up and sat on his chest, with her knees on either side of his head and her fist raised.   
  
"Ill hit you again if you don't sit still!" She yelled  
  
"A'right! Fine! Have it your way!" Race shouted.  
  
Red climbed off of his chest, dragged him over to the bowl of alcohol and held his chin tightly, while she cleaned the cut. Not to say that Race didn't protest.  
  
"OOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!" Red raised an eyebrow, but she didn't let go.   
  
"You are such a big baby! There, I'm done!" Red announced, making one final swipe at the cut. "Don't worry, Jack and David are going to get Crutchy out tonight."   
  
Race smiled faintly, "Do ya really foahgive me goil?" He asked.  
  
Red's eyes started to cloud over with tears, "Yeah," She muttered, "Of course I do, I can't be mad at you for too long."  
  
Race reached up and held her chin, like he had been holding hers, except, well, gently.   
  
Red looked into his eyes and then turned away, and Race suddenly let go of her chin and looked up. He started to put away the bowl and towel, and other items they had knocked over, briskly.   
  
Later, after about 4 games of speed (which Red had willingly taught Race when she first arrived) Race and Red dicided to meet the others at the square as usual.  
  
~P.O.V.C~  
  
Red  
  
While we were walking to the square Race suddenly stopped and turned around.   
  
"Red, how old are youse?" He asked.  
  
I stared at him in disbelief untill I realized that I hadn't told them, ever!  
  
"Sixteen." Came out of my mouth before I could stop it. Why did I just lie about my age, I was off by a full year and 6 months. I looked over at Race and saw something in his eyes that I couldn't classify, but he turned around and kept walking. I followed him.  
  
"Red, have you evah loved anyone?"  
  
"Truthfully, I'm not sure, I guess I might have." I said hesitantly.  
  
"Ya haven't den." He said decisivly.  
  
"And what makes you say that?" I asked, suddenly suspicious of something, I didn't know what.  
  
"I've been in love. And ya don't say 'I's not shua' you say 'yea' when you have."   
  
"Oh, well, who did you love?" I asked, I figured, as a friend, I was entitled to know. He grimaced and there was a short silence.  
  
"I...I'm in love wid someone now, kinda." He said quietly.  
  
"I thought you said it wasn't 'kinda' or anything like that." I said, only half paying attention to him.  
  
"I did, didn't I. Well, Red it's like dis..." His voice trailed off and something in his tone made me walk in front of him, turn around and look at him as he slowed his pace.  
  
"It's like what, Race." I asked, suddenly understanding and glad that I did.  
  
He slowly put his arms around my waist, I looked at him, trying to memorize the feel of his strong hands.   
  
"It's like what, Race." I said again and he looked at me carefully and brought his face closer to mine.   
  
"It's like dis." And he pulled me towards him and kissed me softly. He then pulled away, but for only a minute and then kissed me again, only this one was longer and I pulled my arms up and around his neck. And then he pulled away and almost started to walk again but stopped and sighed.  
  
"I's sorry," He faltered, his voice husky, "I don't know what I just did."  
  
I was surprised and for a moment I didn't know what to do but then I grabbed his hand and made him look at me.   
  
"I do." And I stepped towards him. "I know exactly what you did." And I brought my head within inches of his.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! hope you liked it! and, yes, fivefold, there WAS romance in this one...see! Suggestions and REVIEWS *notice how I highlighted it* are...I want to say required...WELCOME!!!! 


	8. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Shout outs!  
  
To fivefold: You're darn right it was! *sighs as Race kisses her on the cheek* I've loved the stuffings out of him since I first watched the movie! He's so...for lack of a better word...witty ^_^  
  
To Kawaii Julie Sama: I know the couples thing can get really sterotypical but I couldn't help myself...sorry. Thank you for the review, I only got 3 for this chapter *sniffs* Anyways, what's done is done.  
  
To Sapphy: *Shifts uncomfortably* yeaaahhhh....but it wasn't REALLY lying, just improvin' da truth a little...And, no, you can not hug him. Sorry, but I must point out to you at this time that he's mine! ALL MINE!! Mwaahahahah!!! so there! As for the threat-  
  
Skittery: Hey! Geneva!  
  
Me: What?  
  
Skitts: Look heah, it says dat "just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you!"  
  
Me:...Yeah, so?  
  
Skitts: I don't know, I just don't wan' you ta yell at Sapphy, must I remind you, she IS one of yoah favorite authers.  
  
Me: *Sigh* Fine! have it your way!  
  
Andyways...just a deep thought, one to see whether you're in a poetic mood or not. Which verb was invented first: "To Dance" or "To Live" ?  
  
And now...THE DISCLAIMER!!! *Brass band starts playing and people cheer*  
  
Announcer: My fellow citizens...Today is the day for something to be revealed about your author. She does NOT own the Newsies.   
  
Reporter: Are you accusing Spazjoslyn of deception?  
  
Announcer: No, I'm accusing Spazjoslyn of outright fraud!  
  
Spazjoslyn: But you can't because of the speech you just made! you just announced that I wasn't the owner of the Newsies and my readers are witnesses, therefore, you cannot accuse me!  
  
While the Announcer, who is not as bright as he should be (he is a part-time politician) is trying to figure out my last statment I will continue with the story.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
All of a sudden Red regretted that she did know what he did. That was it, they couldn't be friends. A tear ran down her cheek and then she couldn't stop the rest of them.   
  
Race had an aggreived look on his face, "Red what's wrong?"  
  
She could bearly speak through her tears, "Why'd you have to do that?" she sounded angry but was more angry at herself for letting it happen, it wouldn't ever be the same, they couldn't be best friends, let alone good friends for a while at least.   
  
"Why'd you have to make me love you?" The words came unbidden. She loved him, never mind the fact that they would never be able to be friends, they wouldn't anyway. She loved him.  
  
All of a sudden it seemed to Red like she was in the middle of a jigsaw puzzle that was putting itself together. She could talk to him for hours and not get mad, she couldn't do that with her best friend at home. She loved the way he laughed, the way he spoke, she might as well love the way he breathed. Maybe she did.   
  
Race's hand found hers "Gawd, Red, I's so sorry..." He didn't know what to say, why couldn't he find anything to say. He would've started cursing every living member of his family for letting him be born, and perhaps down to great-great-great-grandfathers if his thoughts hadn't been interrupted.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Jack was smoking a cigarett and getting more angry by the second. He knew Red and Race were best friends but this was taking to darn long.  
  
"Hey, Boots," He called.  
  
Boots looked annoyed, and he had a right to be, he was just woken up from a nap. "What?"  
  
"Have you seen Race an' Red?" He got annoyed quickly himself when Boots was cranky. He could be as incooperative as heck.  
  
"No, dey's always gone foah foreva."  
  
Jack sighed, they'd better get back soon, or he'd have to give someone a soakin'.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"I'm sorry too." Geneva answered quietly, just before she ran towards the direction of the loding house.  
  
"Red! Wait!" Race started to run after her, he wanted to apologize, explain, anything, but was stopped short.  
  
"Don't follow me!" She yelled behind her.  
  
Race felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. Don't follow her...Don't follow her. The sentence seemed to repeat itself as he stomped his way, dazed, though the street.   
  
He continued walking to the square where he knew Jack would be waiting, occasionally stopping long enough to kick a pebble at a cooing pigeon. One made a sort of squawking noise and Race looked as though he was going to throttle it. He might have if he had been able to get his hands on it, but it seemed to take a hint from the death-glare he gave it.   
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jack saw the distraught Racetrack Higgins walk towards the square, and something was definately wrong. For one, he was walking slow, and he never walked slow, unless it was away from the sheepshed. For another, Red, his constant companion, was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Hey! Race!" Jack yelled.  
  
The newsboy took only a slight notice at Jack Kelly and muttered something between a "hey" and a "Go away". It did sound kind of like "Go a-hey" but was said so quietly that no one really knew what he was saying, and Snipeshooter, bless his soul, swears to this day that Race didn't say anything at all.   
  
Jack jumped down from his perch on the Horace Greenley statue and grabbed Race by the shoulders.   
  
"Wheah's Red?" He asked quickly, and quietly.  
  
"Donwannatawkboutit" he mumbled, just loud and coherant enough for Jack to understand.  
  
Jack was puzzled for a moment but then stood back and looked at him.  
  
"Wha'd you do ta her?" He asked, malice in his voice.  
  
"NUTTIN'! I SWEAH!" Race answered, much to loudly and quickly. Jack was anxious, Race wouldn't do anything to hurt her, and if she had been beat up Race would look worse than she did. Jack Kelly tried to keep his voice calm, but it had an edge on it like a razor.  
  
"What...happened." He looked Racetrack in the eye, and then, he got it. "How long?" He asked finally.  
  
Race looked up at the taller newsie. "You mean, 'how long was the kiss?', or, 'how long have I loved her?'." Jack stepped back, slightly startled.  
  
"Both, I think." He answered slowly.  
  
One tell-tale corner of Race's mouth curved, ever-so-slightly, upwards. "Da answers ah, 'not long enough', and 'since foaheveh'. Why?"   
  
Jack would've laughed, but something was still wrong. "What happened? I mean, after the...kiss."  
  
He said it somewhat hesitantly.  
  
"She ran off. Said she was angry, said we couldn't be friends no more. We weren't friends foah a long time, foah me. Den, she said, well..." Race's voice trailed off quickly.  
  
Jack sighed, this was taking too long, but Race was his friend and he needed to at least try and listen. "She said what?"  
  
"Said she loved me. Den she ran off." Race looked ready to grin, but his own last sentence caught him. "I really wish she hadn't, even if I didn't have nuttin' ta say ta her."  
  
Jack took off his newsie cap and stared him down. "Anthony Higgins! Youse a disgrace as a newsie. You go talk to da goil oah I's trowing you out a da lodgin' house! Got it?"  
  
Racetrack sighed. "Yes, sir." And he marched off.   
  
After Racetrack was out of ear-shot Jack doubled over with laughter. " 'Not long enough'. Da doity scabbah." 


	9. Chapter 10

Chapter 10!!!!.....  
  
Yeah!   
  
Well, at least I'M excited, so there :^P This is getting, hmmm...interesting, just thought I'd add that, but I'm not sure why, and don't worry, I'll try and keep it from getting stereotypical = )  
  
I'm feeling depressed this month in general, feel sorry for me, so if this chappie comes out melancholy it's not really my fault, it's been really bad this week.  
  
Shout outs:  
  
To ShortAtntionSpaz: Yeah, I know. I am certainly a walking disater area, but I must admit that I could never measure up to your greatness, oh Spastic one. I'm thinking of changing my penname too, I'm thinking 'DenaNesh14' which is Amharic (laguage in Ethiopia) for 'Good Morning Miss' and I'm 14 (I am but a child) but I'm still working on it. I shall give you a FF cup of tea and remind you not to spill it! Thank you for the comments!!!! Truthfully! I really appreciate comments, I do, loads, and I think it's cool that you go to a christian collage, I'm going to go to either NCU or Trinity in Elendale = ) And it's good to hear from a sister in the Lord!  
  
To SilverPetra: A NEW REVIEWER!!! *listens to the angels singing* All hail the brilliant you! And I AM writing, right now, at this moment, this sec-oh well, just a thought. Thanks for the review!  
  
To Cabby1: Doesn't that twisting hurt? Just asking...And to answer your question, she was afraid that they wouldn't be togeather forever and when they weren't they wouldn't be best friends anymore and her best friend ever wouldn't be there like he was before. I feel sorry for her too, wait, the person in this story is based on me! *starts bawling and reaches for anything resembling a human being to hug, and grabs Snipe!* Oooooohhh! Snipey! I need a hug!  
  
Snipeshooter: Gack! *squirms* leggo!  
  
Me: Whear'd you get 'gack'?  
  
Snipeshooter: I was reading 'Cathy', she had a calorie problem again.  
  
Me: Awww, poor Cathy, *snatches funnies* Don't read it anymore, it's not for male eyes to see!  
  
Thanks for the review!  
  
To Sapphy: I said the same thing to FRANCIS...*recieves a glare but ignores it* but I said I'd forgive him if he was nice to Race in the next chapter or the one after that.   
  
Jack: I jus don't wanna be called Francis *shudders* dat name is, how do youse say it Neva?  
  
Me: Nasty.  
  
Jack: Dat's right! I promised. *pouts*  
  
Me: Wow! Good puppy eyes! However, ahem, FRANCIS, you will not be shed of that name untill you are nice to Race! That might make him do it quiker = ) I bow before... *reads from script* one of my favorite authors = )  
  
Now, the Disclaimer.  
  
I don't own Newsies, I don't care to, so HERE are your legal papes! (I couldn't resist ^_^ )  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 10  
  
~~~RED~~~  
  
Red kept running, trying to think as fast as she could while trying to get as far away from him as she could.  
  
She couldn't go back to the loding house, HE would find her, she would have to talk to him. She was afraid, what if he didn't really love her, what if he left her just when she really needed him, friends was different than being in love, very different.   
  
Her boyfriend had dumped her back home...Oh, great, just as things couldn't get any worse, she had to start thinking about home. He had said he loved her, he SAID. He hadn't promised, he told her love doesn't promise, it just DOES.   
  
Race would love her like Karl did, and then leave her cold when she needed him. Friends didn't do that, but boyfriends did.   
  
Red was still running, but where? She asked herself again and again. Just as she thought she was starting to run in circles she made up her mind.  
  
Brooklyn  
  
That was as good a place as any, and she knew one or two of the boys there because they had known Race when he lived closer to Brooklyn.   
  
Hopefully, and that was a lot of hope to extend, Spot wouldn't throw her out for a while, or just yet.  
  
What if he did?   
  
Would she have to go back?  
  
Red didn't know, nor did she care, but she couldn't stop.  
  
Over the months Red had gotten used to running around and didn't get tired as quickly, but her ankles hadn't gotten any better. She was in severe pain but her heart hurt more and wouldn't let her go anywhere but from where she most wanted to be, next to her Racetrack Higgins.  
  
She couldn't stop, she wouldn't, even if she was to pass out from the flashes of pain comming from her ankles.  
  
And, that is exactly what happened.  
  
~~~SPOT~~~  
  
Spot was walking past a bar on 14th street that he knew quite well. Yeah, he drank a little bit, not enough to ever get him drunk, any more.   
  
He once had to pull himself out of the Hudson, still drunk, thinking of how his father had come home like this once, and swore he wouldn't live like that.  
  
He walked passed it, but close to the door, and nodded to Alfred, or Al, as he liked to be called. Spot knew him pretty well, too.  
  
Just after he passed the door he saw a leg sticking out of an alleyway. He'd seen idiots like that come out of bars, drunker than a sailor on a gallon of whiskey, and pass out just after getting thrown out for not being able to pay the bill.   
  
It didn't mean he wasn't sympathetic, he usually helped them out a bit, not a lot, or even enough to be recognized when they got over the hangover, but just enough.  
  
He walked towards the person, only to be very surprised.  
  
It was obviously a girl, and he was obviously worried. Had she been beaten up? or...he couldn't think about that, tough as he was, that frightened him.   
  
She was lying facedown, her long red hair in a braid wrapped around her head like a crown. Her ragged nickers and freckled...bare...legs looked strangely famil---RED HAIR!!!  
  
He knealt down quickly and turned her over, yeah, it was Red alright.  
  
She had probably just turned the corner into the alley when she...He examined her head and neck...passed out.  
  
He smelled her breath. Nothing, not even a hint of anything except coffee, and Spot could smell a drop a mile away.  
  
Spot shook her furiously, "Red! Red! You OK?"  
  
Red was completely out. He'd have to carry her, and it took some doing, but her got her picked up and over his sholder, carrying her like a sack of potatoes.   
  
Luckily, she hadn't passed out far from the Brooklyn loding house, so Spot didn't have to carry her far.  
  
He had to make it past the boys, and that was the, um, annoying part.  
  
There were cat-calls, and some rude comments. Spot rolled his eyes, they were tough, some of the best, but they could really be aggrivating sometimes.  
  
"Just back-off!" Spot yelled, and the voices were silenced, at least untill they were out of ear-shot.   
  
Spot approched the front desk. "Woffard!" An old, but not too old, man popped up from under the front desk, just coming up from aranging records, money boxes and the like.   
  
He always had reminded Spot of what God would look like. White hair and beard, and past middle age, but muscular, and not one even a Delancy would mess with, a feeling of authority about him, but also one of unconditional love, like a REAL father, and that's how Spot treated him.  
  
"Conlon! I have told you, I will not allow you to-" Spot cut him short and turned around, his muscles now straining.  
  
"It's RED, Woffard!" He leaned forward a bit so Woffard could see who he was talking about.   
  
"That's one of Cowboy's newsies, isn't it?" He asked, the angry look on his face dissapearing, giving way to a worried one.  
  
"Yeah, she ain't drunk, she wasn't hit, I don't know what's wrong. I'm puttin' her on my bunk foah now. Is dat OK Woffard?" He was trying to speed up this proccess, his arms and back were getting sore.  
  
"Oh, sure, go ahead, but-" Spot turned around,  
  
"Yeah Woffard?" The man pointed his finger at Spot.  
  
"Don't hurt her when you set her down." Spot nodded and walked off, trying to shift her weight onto a differnt part of his sholder.  
  
Spot lowered her down on his bunk, the only one without a top bunk above it, and, sort of, straitened her out.  
  
Now what was he going to do? He thought quickly, and removed her shoes.  
  
Spot Conlon, it is said, does not 'gasp'. Spot Conlon is, however, rather old-fashioned, and he is not accustomed to seeing a girl hurt, and Red was definately hurt, and Spot Conlon definately gasped.  
  
Both of her ankles were purple and very swollen. Spot used to have that problem when he was little. His mother used to sit for hours at a time and rub his ankles, singing to him to keep him from crying.   
  
Spot moved his hands quickly over her ankles, rubbing, not mesauging, but rubbing, firmly, tring to get the blood to move up the leg. That's what his mother had told him it was for. He remembered her perfectly as he rubbed faster and slightly lighter. There was one song she used to sing to him...and he found himself humming...  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
In the fields of gold   
  
In the city streets  
  
I can hear you  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
Like a river flowing  
  
To the sea  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
He could hear her now, almost, like a person he could see but could't touch, maybe if he sang it..  
  
In the driving rain  
  
Through the river wide  
  
In the crashing waves  
  
In the flashing sky  
  
All creation   
  
Sings a symphony  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
He remembered playing with Francis when he was little, his mother calling him for dinner...  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
Like a gentle breeze  
  
Tender voice of peace  
  
Telling me you'll   
  
never leave me  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
There she was, always home, even when father wasn't, always there to fix scrapes, and give kisses when he was sad, or when he missed father, when father had died. He switched to the other ankle.  
  
With the rising light  
  
With the brightest day  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
In my darkest night  
  
When I lose my way  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
He had gotten lost, dragged off by some big boy, and been out till all hours, calling for his mother, and...she came, just for him.  
  
In the valley low  
  
When I feel so weak  
  
When I've fallen down  
  
From the highest peak  
  
When a wise man laughs   
  
When the children sing  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
He felt the ankle being taken out of his hand and a small sweet voice continuing the song, just like his mother had sang it.  
  
When I run to you  
  
When I hide away  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
When I've thought a place  
  
Your love cannot reach  
  
Your love calls to me  
  
He listened to the song, and then looked at Red, now concious and sitting, tears in her eyes.  
  
"Do you miss her?"   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Next chapter to come!!! Hope you liked it! 


	10. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
I have nothing to say, except...um...here are the shout-outs!  
  
To Sapphy: Yeah, it was definately the cookie that brought about my conciousness. And, yes, you CAN hug poor Spotty, and give him a small kiss, just to make him feel better. I can't do that, Race is watching *^_^*  
  
To Cabby1: Ooooh! Veggies and Dip! And, all of the questions you asked in your review are answered in this chappie, so have fun! And here's a banana! Sorry, I don't have any desert at my house = (  
  
To ShortAtntionSpaz: I know, I am mearely an apprentice to artist Spazes like yourselves. See? *walks downstairs, carefully, trips, and falls down the last half of the stairs* Andyways, yeah, *blushes* the narrating thing wasn't THAT good. OK, so maybe it was, but I have a reputation as being modest, gotta keep it up ; )  
  
To Hearts: Dat's OK, and, Yes, I am, in fact, updating. Thanks for the Reveiw!!!  
  
To JustDuck: VEGGIETALES!!!! That's really all there is to say on that subject = ) I miss *sobs* DC Talk! *starts crying untill some one taps her on the sholder* What?  
  
Boots: I got you the Toby Mac CD, "Momentum"  
  
Me: *screams insanely* Where'd you find it?  
  
Boots: E-Bay  
  
Me: Ooooh. And don't worry, Ducky, my friend, Racy gets da goily, but don't take my word for it, read it for yourself. A FELLOW DORY!!! I find there are many of us, there shouldn't be a Sharks anonymus thingy, there should be a Dory Anonymus, definately. *shouts* Go...! what's our name again?  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
I do not own Newsies, (crap) or Racy (double crap) nor do I own Woffard, which I forgot to mention last chappie. He's my former Bible teacher. I do own Red, which is really the only thing I DO own.   
  
The song "I've Always Loved You" is by Third Day, and the song "In My Arms Again" is by Michael W. Smith.  
  
~Tally-Ho!~  
  
Spot just stared at her, unmoving, debating whether or not to say anything at all. That voice, when she sang that song, how did she know it? she sounded just like his mother. He was the leader, the one who had to be tough, he COULD NOT let himself cry.  
  
"I's fine" He made the last comment after rubbing the welling up tears in his eyes. he had to change the subject, but was uneasy at the look the red-head gave him.  
  
"What happened to you? Why were youse in an alleyway?"   
  
Red sighed, "I'm not sure. Not really anyway."  
  
Spot looked at Red, confused. "Whatcha talkin' about? Did someone slip ya a micky oah sumptin like dat?"   
  
She looked like she was about to giggle and cry at the same time. Spot was trying to figure out whether it was a girl thing,or if she was just tired.  
  
She finally started giggling, and then it turned into a deep laugh. "You wouldn't belive me if I told you."  
  
Spot looked at her, unconvinced. "Try me."  
  
She stopped giggling but was smiling tiredly. "I...I...um..."  
  
"Get on wid it goily, I ain't got all day." Spot said impatiently.  
  
Red almost started giggling again. He had definately been at the back of the line when they handed out tact.   
  
"I kissed Racetrack Higgins. Believe me?" She raised an eybrow at him for emphasis.  
  
"Whoa, OK, hold it one second. You mean to tell me, you were kissed by, ours truly, Anthony Michael Higgins?" Spot tripped on the words, slightly.  
  
"One and the same. The story does NOT have a happy ending though."  
  
"Whatcha talkin' about? Why aren't you wid...oh." Spot finished lamely.  
  
"That's right, your highness. I REJECTED, ours truly, Anthony Micheal Higgins." She looked rather dissapointed, and she was, but with herself.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Red looked at Spot's face and could have sworn that he was the spitting image of Aristotle.  
  
"Ya know Spot, that's about the smartest thing you've ever said."  
  
She knew she was confusing him, but thought it was kinda fun to watch him squirm. Red stood up and walked out the bunk-room door.  
  
As she rounded a corner to talk to Woffard she heard a shout from behind her.  
  
"RED! What did I say?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Race burst out of the Loding house. She wasn't there. She could be anywhere, everywhere, she could be in Brooklyn for all he...knew. He shouted at Dutchy, who was about a hundred paces in front of him walking towards the square.  
  
"Dutchy!" Race waited for the blond boy to turn around "Have you seen Red?"  
  
Dutchy nodded and yelled something Race couldn't hear and continued walking  
  
Race was annoyed, angry, sad, and had no choice but to follow, maybe Dutchy did know something.   
  
When Race did catch up with Dutchy the only thing he figured out was they were going by the Distribution center again to have another shoot-out, in a manner of speaking.  
  
Things were not going well when they started and they got worse when he saw the doors behind open, and there, for all the world to see, was the Crib.  
  
Race, never one short with words could only manage to shout out one warning.  
  
"Jack! Jack! It's da Crib!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
All of a sudden two smaller boys passed her, and no joking to her this time, they went strait to Spot, who came barging out in less than ten seconds, running past Red and yelling behind him.  
  
"RED! Jack's boys are gonna face da Crib, but day don't know it yet, day gots um behind the doors at da Manhattan Distribution Center!"  
  
Red was behind him in a second, her ankles only hurting slightly, and everyone else was behind her, it seemed.  
  
As they ran through the streets and over the bridge she could hear Spot talking to himself, saying such things as "Dis is foah you Jacky-Boy." and "Now we'se gonna be even."  
  
They arrived as fast as they could, sometimes going from roof-top to roof-top, and then popping up from the low walls on the roof of the Distribution Center. The reaction from the Manhattan boys made Red stifle several giggles thinking of the little bugle tune that the cavalry used.  
  
But where was Race? Red looked through the crowd several times before spotting him, getting rid of first one guy and then another. Red finally got down to ground-level to find him, and, Red would swear for years afterwards, time stopped.   
  
Later Red, or while at home, Geneva, would compare it to the one scene from "West Side Story" at the dance when the pair see each other, and everything else goes out of focus, for a while at least.   
  
The thing that interrupted it was Race decking some member of the Crib, and then scurrying behind him, running towards her.  
  
Oh, heaven help her, he was comming towards her, but she had to keep fighting in order to keep herself intact.   
  
"Race is coming, it's alright." Red kept repeating to herself, trying to keep fighting, but her hands hurt, and her shin that had been kicked hard in one scuffle, and, ouch, that was going to turn colors.   
  
Just as she fell, and felt herself getting stepped on, not a pleasant feeling, she felt a strong hand pull her up and off to the side.   
  
She looked up, and spat out blood from her mouth to the side. "Come to rescue me, Eh?"  
  
She recieved a smile and just as she was about to sit down and examine her shin, there was Denton. Go figure, they were fighting, and Denton was taking pictures.   
  
Race dragged her into the picture, and, quite to her surprise, just as Denton was about to take the picture, he pulled her close, sliding his arms around her waist.  
  
"Boys! Freeze!"  
  
And the whole world stopped.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Lookie here boys!" Jack was crowing, looking quite satisfied with himself.  
  
Several boys crowded around Jack and the newpaper, and there, for all the world to see, were Racetrack Higgins and Red Rockeman, caught red-handed, or, red-lipped, as the case was.  
  
There were several hoots, and a general laugh of approval, at which Red snatched the paper.   
  
"If ya'll WANT me to burn this..."  
  
She never finished her sentence, as the paper was taken out of her hands with due haste, and, Race rather dragged her out of Tibby's to talk to her.  
  
He started walking, and didn't stop untill he got to a bench underneath a tree, almost at the very middle, and almost nobody was out, rich people being senistive about the heat...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Race  
  
Dear me, she was beautiful, well, to me she was. She knew ME and she loved me, at least I hoped she did.  
  
"Red, I was gonna ask ya, um, if well, um, if, ya know..." I am a royal idiot.   
  
She was smiling, trying not to laugh, I had seen that look before, but she was so herself when she smiled like that.  
  
"Spit it out, I don't have all day, Higgins." She kept smiling.  
  
That was a good sign, she never called me by my last name except when she was in a really good mood. I tried to summon the courage again.  
  
"Um, Red?" goodness, I am just incredibly intelegent, ain't I?  
  
"Yeah Higgins?"   
  
I smiled, weakly, it was better than nothing but I couldn't keep looking into her light blue eyes, and it was definately a good thing that my cap started sliding down. But, the cap started going up, and then, she was looking at me.  
  
"I SAID, I...don't...have...all...day."  
  
I gave up and said it strait, no fancy words, not like I used on some girls, it was strait with her.  
  
"I...I love you, moah den anything. I can't live like dis, you not knowing."  
  
I tried to get closer to her, we were sitting on a park bench, her in her usual sliding down so she had her sholder blades and seat on the bench, but her midding back not touching a thing, and she was looking up at me. I'm not tall so that was always a novelty for me, even though she's less than 2 inches shorter than me.  
  
She just sat there, looking up at me, and I was getting closer, and closer...  
  
"Race?" She was talking very quietly.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She was whispering, but I could hear every, single, wonderful word.  
  
"I can't breathe." Her breath shuddered  
  
"Maybe you're not supposed to."  
  
And her lips met mine.  
  
Don't know how to expain it  
  
But I know it was honey dew  
  
Don't you know  
  
I've always loved you  
  
Even before there was time  
  
You may turn away   
  
But I'll tell you still  
  
Don't you know   
  
I've always loved you  
  
And I always will  
  
"Can you breathe now?" It came as a very horse whisper.  
  
"Perfectly."  
  
She scooched around and placed her head on my lap, her hair now out of its braid and falling around my knees, like a copper river, with small streams all over of gold and bronze. She started to sing, she had a small quiet voice, but it sounded perfect to me.  
  
*******************  
  
It was written in the stars   
  
On the pages of my heart  
  
Oh that someday I would find   
  
The love I feel for you right now  
  
On the ocean of our dreams  
  
Like a prayer you came to me  
  
And the longing that had been   
  
Is ending in your eyes  
  
I really want to touch you  
  
I really want to hold you   
  
In my arms, again and again  
  
I really want to reach to you  
  
Forever be with you  
  
If only I could, forever  
  
Even if, the waves the sea  
  
Seperate you from me  
  
Here's a promise   
  
And it's mine  
  
I will love you for all time  
  
I'm so glad you are here  
  
********************  
  
She loved me, and everything was perfect, and always would be.  
  
__________________________________________  
  
I couldn't give ya'll a clif-hanger. I'm not that cruel = ) Do R&R, I liked this chapter, but I need to know what you think...Don't flame me, just saying. 


	11. Reminders of Home and Strikey Stuff

HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so sorry I have not updated in the longest time but my internet was out for a month and I could read and review from other computers but not post anything. Andyways, I'm now here, trying to fix my computer's language. I live in Central America so when my computer wasn't working we had some guys fix it, but in Spanish, so now everything on my computer is in Spanish. My 'start' button says 'Inicio' and the 'file' button says 'Archivo' so I have to use my limited Spanish to do the simplest thing, and I've never really been a linguist. My keyboard has also been converted to the dark side so it takes forever to find the @, seriously, and the quoats and every other symbol. This is my chapter before the chapter before my Christmas chapter so I might give my readers some post holiday cheer around New Year's. Oh well, life goes on, and thank you for your patience.  
  
Shout Outs:   
  
JustDuck: Yes, have no fears, I'm officially updating. Sorry 'bout the FF.net thingy, hope you get it sorted out completely, apperantly there was some twilightzone, planet alignment thingy. Life is very interesting.  
  
Wisecracker88: No comment what so ever, Skaggs.  
  
Cabby1: Yes, indeed it is. He's just so much more...how would you say it...adorable, than Spot is, and he's so egotistical, he annoys me. The crib are the guys with the clubs and stuff who are fighting the Newsies and winning untill Brooklyn shows up.   
  
Spot: *clears throat* Scuse moi...  
  
Yes, what is it, Spotty?  
  
Spot: *Glares* I saved yoah precious Manhattan Newsies.  
  
Yeah, you and the rest of Brooklyn. Don't take all of the credit, give some to the 'goin some where Kelly' newsie at least, mostly cuz he's the only one I know...  
  
Spot: Youse pathetic.  
  
Hey, takes one to know one, pal.  
  
To Sapphy: I know, but it's Racy that makes the piccy cute, I's just sort of an extra. *Sighs* He's so frustratingly adorable, isn't he?  
  
***********Have a Capital Time Gents*************  
  
When Race and Red arrived back at Tibby's they were quite surprised at the plan of the rally, which was in two days.  
  
"So, Jack, what kinda stuff are you gonna do for the rally?" Red asked around a mouthful of the mashed potatoes she had just ordered.  
  
"Well, a sort of pep-talk by me, Davey, and Spot, and den some entatainment, Medda's in charge a dat."  
  
Red nodded and shoved another forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.  
  
After a few more escapades, none of which were interesting enough to write about, it was time to go home. They took the regular route to the lodging house and Spot was going with them for that night, as it was a little too dangerous for even the leader of the Brooklyn newsies to walk through Brooklyn at this time of night, though our friend would never have admitted it.   
  
They slowly walked into the bunk room and all went to bed immidiately, but Race, and several others did have a rather strange dream.....  
  
++++++++++++  
  
Racetrack threw a penny on the change pile in the middle of the three tables pushed together at the bar. "I raise ya a cent."  
  
"Oooh, don't be so risky Race, ya know Red won't like it." Spot smirked.  
  
After around three beers their New York accents had returned completely.  
  
"So, Jack, how's Sarah doin? I hoid youse got in a fight wid er." Race tried to redirect the topic of conversation away from himself.  
  
Skittery laughed, "Yeah, she yell loud enough foah ya?"  
  
Everyone looked at Jack. "You got in another fight?" Boots faked an 'I'm ashamed of you' face.  
  
He banged his head against the table once. "It wasn't my fault dis time. I didn't know I was supposed to be home before 9:00 dat night, she nevah said nothin'." Jack righted himself in no time, however and chuckled a bit, showing that he wasn't mad anymore, and obviously, neither was Sarah.  
  
Race resituated the cigar in his mouth. "Don't you guys find it kinda strange dat we all moved to da same place after we got married or quit bein' newsies?"  
  
David shook his head, his early graying curls fully visible. "No. I rather expected it. What was strange was that we all live in a place like Countridge Pennsylvania."  
  
"On da back hills'a nowhere." Specs grumbled, still getting over the fight he had last night with Alison.  
  
Les smiled and threw in a nickel. "Raise ya a nickel. Yeah, and Mr. General Store over here married his milliner." He pointed at David.  
  
Bumlets took a gulp of his beer. "Yeah, dat was weird, Mouth. She's really nice dough." He looked at his pocket watch. "Anna's gonna have a fit if I'm late, I's gonna have ta go soon."  
  
"Whea is Blink now, anyone know?" Snipeshooter asked from behind the bar, cleaning glasses.  
  
"He's in England, last letter I got. Woik'en foah sum comp'ny dat sells 'phones" Pie Eater offered  
  
"How's Tigger doin' Spot?" Mush asked, ordering another beer.  
  
Spot smiled in such a way that all of the guys knew something was up.  
  
"Come on! Tell us!!!" the guys pleaded.  
  
"She's gonna have another baby."  
  
There was a split second of semi-defining silence after which there was a cheer, another round of beers, and some slaps on the back. Race refused his beer.  
  
"Wassa mattah Race? Don't you want one?" Jack asked, knowing very well that the beer in his hand was the last one Sarah would've let him have, and was going to obey it.  
  
"Red says I can only have five, after dat, I's walkin' home."  
  
Dutchy stated the obvious. "But, you live five miles away, and it's snowing."  
  
"Dat's exactly why I'm not having any moah." He laid down his hand, "Royal Flush." he raked in the change and passed it to Snipeshooter.   
  
He shook Crutchy's hand before getting up. "I's gonna see ya tamarra, right Crutchy?"  
  
Crutchy smiled. He lived with Jack and Sarah, in their rather big house, so Crutchy saw Race everyday as he stopped by on his way to work to pick up Jack in the morning.   
  
On his way out all Racetrack Higgins could think about was that Mrs. Red Higgins was waiting for him.  
  
He stepped out and stopped a passing carriage, smiling at Oscar driving it. "Take me home, Delancy?"  
  
The man smiled sadly and opened the door of the carriage. "Shua, Race, whatevah you want."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Every boy in the lodging house awoke with a start, some scared out of their wits, some severely surprised, and some, namely David, worried about their hair graying early. The only one still asleep was Red, and she was smiling in her sleep, like she was the happiest thing in the world.  
  
Every boy looked at each, and then started talking, quickly.  
  
"I was MARRIED to Sarah!"  
  
"I was in some completely different country sellin' phones ta some broad. I sent lettas ta you guys oahl da time and youse almost nevah wrote back!"  
  
"Married! ta dat goil from Queens, Alison."  
  
"Married ta Tigger! And a fadda!"   
  
All of a sudden Jack shouted the only thing he could think of to make everyone be silent.  
  
"SSSSHHHHUUUUUTTTTT UUUPPPPP!!!!!"  
  
Hey, it works.  
  
Everyone was looking at Jack, except for Red, who was still asleep, and waiting for him to continue.  
  
"Just a question: did we all have da same dream?" Jack asked, still somewhat happy, scared, and surprised. There was, however, only silence, and Jack wanted to find out what had happened.  
  
"We'll go around, Race, you foist. Wheah were you?"  
  
"Countridge Pennsylvania. Wheahevea dat is, and I was married. I was sittin' in a bar at 9:30 playing pokah wid you guys and drinkin' beer, we's was all talkin' 'bout our wives."  
  
One or two boys shuddered visibly, but Spot, said the few people who were watching him, was grinning like an idiot.  
  
Jack smiled wickedly. "Who were you married to, Race?"  
  
Race blushed and didn't answer.  
  
Jack then redirected his attention to rather surprised David. "Whea were you?"  
  
"Same place as Race, but I owned a General Store, and I had married my milliner."  
  
"I was drinking beer!" Les piped up.  
  
At this comment, Red woke up, rubbed her eyes, pushed back the hair that had gotten out of her braid, and sat up.  
  
"What's all this? Why're ya'll up early?"  
  
Les spoke first.  
  
"We were all havin' the same dream. I was drinkin' beer, and Snipeshooter was a bar tender. Jack was married to Sarah, and Blink was in another country, and Spot was married to his girlfriend Tigger and she was going to have another baby." Spot blushed, although no one ever said anything to Spot about it. "David was a store owner, and Specs had married a goil from Queens and you were married to..."  
  
Race put his hand over Les's mouth, embarrassed, but Red signaled to him to let him go and she motioned for Les to be quiet and come closer, which he did with Race following him.  
  
"I know. I dreamed that I had just put my children to bed and I was waiting at home for Race. He just walked through the door of our house and kissed me when I woke up." She smiled at Les, and looked up at Race, who had a strange look on his face as well.  
  
"Are you ready for tomorrow, Race?"  
  
Race looked relieved that she hadn't asked him anything else, especially about the dream. He really wished he was still dreaming, but was glad he had the real thing right in front of him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Red yawned, Jack, David, and Spot's speech WOULD have been interesting if they had not practiced ALL morning, with her as the audience. The little fight was a pretty good idea, Red reflected, as the newsies around her started arguing, since it was made to prove a point. She had to admit that all three boys were pretty good actors.   
  
°°°°°°°°°°°  
  
Medda walked out on the stage, looking out over the sea of boy, and a few girl, faces. It was such a priveledge for her to do this for them, she might as well make it good.  
  
°°°°°°°°°°°  
  
When Red stood up to cheer she saw a familiar figure in Spot's arms. She was rather tall, with a long skirt on, long blond hair with brown streaks and a babyish face. Red then realized why she looked familiar. Red knew her, it was one of her friends from back home. It was Teresa.   
  
Red leaned forward, whispered into Race's ear, as he was still holding her hand, extracted herself from his grip, and ran over to the girl with Spot.   
  
"Teresa! It's me! Geneva Rockeman!" She waited for Teresa to recognize her.  
  
"Geneva!" She gathered her up in a big hug and set her down. "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"  
  
"I'm a newsie, and I'm here cuz I kinda support the strike, I don't know!" She answered quickly. "You're the one they call Tigger, huh?" Red smiled, "It fits you perfectly. You with Spot?"  
  
"That doesn't matter right now! I just came in a month ago, you've been missing for almost 5 months! Your parents are on the hair edge of going berzerk and your sister is almost ready to give up West Point!" Tigger looked quite anxious.  
  
"What are you talking about? You mean I've really been gone all that time?"  
  
Tigger grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her aside. "This isn't the Chronicles of Narnia, Geneva, you don't get to have an adventure and come back all normal, this is real."  
  
"But, Teresa, I don't know how to go back! It's not my fault!" Race walked behind Red and put his arms around her waist. "Who's your friend?"  
  
Red gathered herself together quickly, rather difficult as she was thinking very much of the tourmoil at home, and who was behind her.  
  
"Oh, um, Race, this is Teresa, or Tigger. Tigger, this is Race." He didn't seem to notice that anything was wrongand kissed her on the cheek. "Waddya say we go get sumpthin' ta drink?"  
  
Red was disheavled and pale, but nodded. "Sure." she motioned to the other pair and they walked over to a table that Jack and Sarah occupied.   
  
Nothing very remarkable happend for a while, though Red was trying very hard not to think of all the trouble she was causing, when she noticed that David looked rather frantic, and pointed towards the door. He shouted something but it took a bit for Red to catch what he was saying. It was 'Snyder'.   
  
Race stood up quickly, dodged over to Red, grabbed her wrist hard and started moving quickly backstage. He weaved in and out of scenery, dodging ropes and cops, all the while dragging Red with him.   
  
He finally turned a corner and was confronted with a wall covered by a curtain. Red was frantic, there was no way out, and the curtain was too thin to hide behind. Race pushed back the curtain to reveal the door to a small closet and opened it just enough to shove Red in, but before he did that he hugged her, then pulled away and pushed her in, and just before he closed the door he ran a finger along her chin.  
  
"I'll be back, don't move untill da bulls ah goane."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It had been hours before Red had let herself out of the closet. Seconds after she was shoved in, Teresa had been pushed in too and there wasn't much room in the closet with just one person. She was cramped and sore, but not hurt. There had been no talk of family, just the thought of the boys getting hurt, or perhaps...but no, that wouldn't happen. Couldn't happen.  
  
They ran down to the Lodging house to find Boots and a few other newsies, all looking like they were waiting for someone. As she ran she excercised an old habit she had of undoing her hair, she was quite nervous. She had to know where Race was and grabbed Boots by the shirt front.   
  
"Boots, I need to know where Race is, quickly, now, spitspot, before I have an anurism!"   
  
The startled Boots carefully removed himself from the shaking hands of Red Rockeman and quietly offered the information that they had been taken to the Refuge last night and were now talking to a judge who was going to decide how long they were going to stay in.  
  
The next two hours felt like a life-time to Red but when Race returned he had a bad black eye.  
  
"Oh! What happened?" Red ran to Race and hugged him, her long hair falling around his shoulders by her abrupt stop.  
  
He ran his fingers through her hair. "I'm okay, Denton got us all out widout a scratch. I's supposed to go wid da guys to Tibby's but I couldn't wait to talk ta you."  
  
"What happened after you pushed me into the closet?" Red asked.  
  
"Well, I was tryin' to get Medda out but da bulls was commin outta da woodwoik and one guy gave me dis." He pointed to his black eye. "Some of da guys got caught. Spot did, right after he pushed Tigger in wid you." He looked at her and then somehow enveloped her in a hug. This was rather an odd ocurance, seeing as how he was only about two inches taller than Red and not much bigger. "I was worried about you all night." He whispered to her, keeping her in the hug.  
  
"I was worried about you too." She murmured, but Red didn't pull away. This didn't bode well, with their luck the papers didn't even print anything...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"They didn't print ANYTHING? Are you sure?" Red flipped through the five different newspapers on the table quickly, finally giving up in disgust. "Why not?" She asked, flustered.  
  
Blink sighed. "Denton says dat Pulitzer is trying to keep anyone from finding out about the strike so he got other rich men to say dat nuttin' happened. Not even da part where dey arrested us."  
  
There was nothing to be done except wait out the storm and there wasn't much to do, with Jack in the refuge and no money they really couldn't keep it up much longer. Red ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly.   
  
They had to do something, but Red knew that whatever Pulitzer wanted from Jack, and she knew he wanted something, Jack would take an offer if it was good enough. Red loved Jack like her older brother, well, the one that she never had, but there was nothing to be done in terms of his character. He wasn't, strictly speaking, 'raised' and would take whatever the bribe was, almost definately.   
  
"We're going to get Jack out tonight, ya gonna come with?" Boots asked.  
  
Red sighed tiredly, Boots was a tiny bit too loyal to believe what she wanted to tell him, so she had to make up an excuse. "Dat closet made me real sore, so I's actually gonna stay behind, if that's OK with you."  
  
She got out of the venture but was the only one who expected what was comming next.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Red showed up, worn out, to the distribution center the next day, and surprise surprise, there was Jack. She didn't bat an eye. She just started walking past him before he called to her. "Red!" She turned around slowly, keeping her eyes as neutral as possible as she was dragged through the line of policemen by the indignant Mr. Wisely.  
  
"Yes, Francis." She said it calmly, and rather bitterly.  
  
"Don't call me dat! You understand, don't you? Ya gotta." He looked somewhat desperate but Red wasn't feeling especially sympathetic.  
  
"Well, Francis, I understand that you now have money, however, I have on question for you. Did money buy you all of your friends and the only family that you now have? No, Francis, you HAD them because you had nothing. Do take notice of the past tense of 'to have', Francis." And Red started walking away before Jack grabbed her arm, turning her around to face him.  
  
"Don't...call...me...that." His voice was low and shaky. "You have to understand, you have to." He looked like he was about to cry.  
  
"Excuse me, Francis, I have friends to talk to, but no money, so you obviously don't want to be seen with me." Red had tears in the corners of her eyes.   
  
"I miss Jack Kelly. Do tell him to come back if you see him. I never had a big brother before Jack." And with that Red wrenched herself out of his grip and walked off, threading her way through the crowd.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Red was not surprised when Jack came back, though she didn't talk to him for a week. She wasn't surprised when they won the strike either, though she did kiss Race just for the sake of the occasion. Things were going well again, as things often do. People often talk of the quiet before the storm, but few talk of the silence after, and there was a long, relaxing, greatful silence.   
  
_____________________  
  
There we are...How lovely, ain't it? Don't flame, don't shoot, don't kill, it's not my fault if I suck, I just live in this body, don't control it, nor the mind that runs it, sorry. 


	12. Hair, Thanksgiving, and Razors

There were only two reviews *Sobs* But I think I finally have the hang of this accursed keyboard. WARNING: I have named the 'get the lead outta your pants!' boy, Dog-Face Nelson. Now, for the shout outs! *Trumpets blare*  
  
To JUSTDUCK: They were actually seeing their future at that moment to the letter. But remember the name of the place. It comes in later in the story.  
  
To SAPPHY: I have a confession to make. I'm going to fix Sarah. She's never shown as anything but a Mary-Sue, which she very well might be, but I think she should get at least a little credit here and there. She's gonna be alright, so don't be worried about poor Francis. And, no, I WILL NOT BE FINISHED FOR ABOUT 10 MORE CHAPTERS!!! Muahahahaha!!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I can't think of a funny one, so just use your imagination. I don't own Newsies. Thrice accursed Disney owns it. A thousand cats on walt's back! I do NOT own Dog Face Nelson, but I own that name. I DO own Red, so please don't use her without my permission.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Two and a half months after the Strike~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thanksgiving day   
  
Jack woke up early one morning and was going to go into the bathroom to shave. He had been waking up early more and more often after the strike and his little, well, escapade. He needed more time to think these days, and he liked to get done early and talk to Sarah. He smiled at remembering how she looked.   
  
Red used to say that she was a little too girly but after talking to Sarah she told Jack that he had better not let her go anywhere. When Jack had asked why Red told him that there's more to being brave than hitting and name-calling, and Sarah had the heart of a lion. He walked slowly towards the bathroom but then he exploded.  
  
"Damn it Red!" He shouted, oblivious to the three newsies he had woken up with the exclamation.  
  
The red-head turned around quickly to reveal her left leg on the sink with shaving cream left on half of it, and Jack's razor in her hand.  
  
"What?" She yelled back, frowning, "You just made me cut myself!"  
  
"Yeah," Jack said tiredly, "Wid my razor."  
  
"Oh, quit moaning, I wash it every...um..."  
  
"You've used it before?" Jack thought he was going to strangle her.  
  
"Yeah, kinda."  
  
Jack looked on in exausted desperation, well, as much exausted desperation as can be used on the situation. "Why?"  
  
"Because Race won't let me use his, that's why. Now, Cowboy, if you will excuse me, I'm almost done."  
  
Jack sank down on a chair near the door and put his head in his hands as the other newsies started moving towards the bathroom. " 'Race won't let me use his', yeah."  
  
"Red!" He yelled into the bathroom, "If ya wasn't a goil, I'd soak ya!" He was greated with a chorus of laughter. Race looked around from where he had been brushing his hair.  
  
"Youse not gonna hoit my goil, are ya Kelly?" There were whistles and more laughter.  
  
"I'm done anyways, Cowboy." She said with a friendly smile as she walked out of the bathroom, putting her jacket on, her hair in it's usual braid.  
  
Jack grabbed Red and put her in a headlock. He heard a half-shriek from the red-head as he pulled on her braid and then a laugh. He then set her on her feet again.  
  
"So, youse gonna sell da most papes today?"  
  
"Of course, is there every any doubt?"  
  
"None what-so-evah. We's gonna get going," He shouted into the bathroom, "As soon as dese idiots get dere butts movin'!"  
  
"Aww! shut up!" yelled back Mush, flipping shaving cream at Jack and hitting him in the face.  
  
Jack laughed and wiped off his face but was grinning evilly. "Wait until tomorrow, Mush." was his only warning but every newsie in hearing range let out a long 'ooooooohhh' before asking Mush if they could have his spare hat when he died  
  
"Hey, Jack," Red cut in, grinning, "If we race to the distribution centah and I win, will ya buy me 50 papes?" She asked hopefully.  
  
"Shua," He answered, "but if I win youse gots ta help me sell all of mine."  
  
She looked pleased with herself. "Righto. Hey, Race?"  
  
Race, appearantly, understood immidiately and shouted quickly. "Readygetsetgo!"  
  
Red took off down the stairs and Jack followed three seconds later, complaining, loudly, about the fairness with which the game was being played. Basically, he kept yelling, 'cheater'.  
  
Red reached the distribution center a half minute before Jack but she had sprinted the whole way and was winded, she walked up to the window, which had not opened yet, and then bent forward and placed her hands on her knees, looking intently at the little white cloud issuing forth from her mouth after each breath.   
  
Today was Thanksgiving and this Christmas were going to be her first in the states. How strange. She had always lived overseas and now she didn't care that she was living in the states at all, though she had hated it before.  
  
"I do rather wonder what a white Christmas is like..." She said aloud to herself, just as the boys started arriving. "Jack!" she called behind her, "Fifty papes!" she smirked.  
  
Jack arrived three seconds later, smiling, but also out of breath. "I don't buy papes foah Scabbs."  
  
Red faked a hurt look. "Oh, well, you don't HAVE to buy any for me."  
  
Jack pinched her on the arm. "Dat don't woik wid me, goily, you know dat." He plunked down his money just as 'Weasel' opened the window. "hundred an' fifty papes."  
  
While the Weasel made sarcastic comments on how it Jack had just taken much more time than usual, Red paid for an extra twenty and then shouted behind Oscar and Morris through the bars. "Nelson! Get your butt out here!"  
  
A fifteen year-old red-head poked his head through the bars, "Good mornin' Red!"  
  
Nelson, or, Dog-face, as some called him, was in charge of the carrying boys that worked loading and unloading the papers from the factory to the Manhattan distribution center and Red always said good morning to him. They had become pretty good friends recently and Red told him a lot of what went on.  
  
"Good mornin' Nelson. How's business?"  
  
"Could ask you the same thing. You've been orderin' more and more since the strike, and more every week. What're you planning?"  
  
"To tell ya the truth, Nelson, I'm savin' up so I can buy preasants for the boys on Christmas, and buy some stuff to make dinner for all of them."  
  
"Am I invited?"  
  
"We'll see how many I sell."  
  
"A'right, but I's already hungry Red."  
  
"See ya later Nelson. But don't worry, I'll probably have enough ta have ya ovah." She turned and went down the steps near the window to join Race. "What's good today?"  
  
"Not much really. Dere was a small fire downtown but it doesn't leave a lot to be improved." He scooched a bit closer and took her hand. "Wese gonna sell togetha today?" he asked, not looking up from the newspaper.  
  
Red took her hand back tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, but were gonna haveta make it quick. I've got some errands ta do."  
  
Race looked up then, curious. "Like what?"  
  
"I have to see someone about a job and I have to go to a wig place downtown." Red answered casually.  
  
"Wig place?" Race frowned, "Why?"  
  
"You'll see, nosey, but we really have to get going." Red stood up, reached out her hand, and pulled Race to his feet. "Let's try twentieth, not a lot of newsies are there this early in the day, and then we can go to the Sheepsheds."  
  
"Coitenly, yer honor." Race answered with obviously fake reverance.  
  
"And shut up, Higgins." Red smiled and turned around to hug him. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
"I was about to say da same thing, so it don't matta." He returned the hug and then swung her around once. "Let's go."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
All day Red had been fiddling with her hair, pulling at her braid, and then finally taking it out and stuffing her hair into her hat but they still finished selling early and were on their way to Tibby's. Race, however, was having problems following orders, as it were.  
  
"I don't wanna right now."  
  
"I swear, Race..."  
  
"I'm not hungry. Let's come back later." He didn't have enough money for lunch with his saving up for his christmas presant for Red.  
  
"I'm not getting anything to eat, Higgins, I'm seeing about a part-time job in the kitchens, so quit complaining and hurry up!" Red walked through the door and started towards the kitchen, shoving her money into her pocket and taking her coat off. She called into the kitchen when she reached the door. "Mr. McGee! I'm here!"  
  
A large, friendly looking man came out of the door and brightened when he saw Red. "Coming by to see about the job, are you?" The man asked in a heavy Irish accent.  
  
"I am indeed, and thank you, sir. I was wondering if mondays through fridays in the afternoons would be OK. If I start just after two?" Red looked very doubtful but was shifting her weight from foot to foot expectantly.  
  
"Oh, I was hoping for a little earlier than that, but that'll do. I have one boy in the afternoon shift that almost refuses to do anything but his work always seems to be done. he's about driven me mad so I'm afraid I rather at my wits end. I do need your help, so yes, that'll be fine, but if you're late more than once a week I take off a nickel from your pay at the end of the week."  
  
Red was extatic and hugged the man. "Oh, Thank you, Mr. McGee!" She was walking out of Tibby's, but turned around just before leaving, "I'll be here in four days!"  
  
Race was puzzled for a minute before realizing that today was Thursday. He was about to leave just then and catch up to her but Mr. McGee held him back. "You've got yourself one lovely lassie, you keep her, you hear?"  
  
Race raised his fingers to the brim of his hat in a salute. "Yes sir!"  
  
"That's a good laddie, now hop along, don't keep the girl waiting."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They had to walk for almost an hour to get to the place Red was talking about but before they entered Red stopped Race in his tracks. "Tuck in your shirt."  
  
"What? why?"  
  
"Race, I said, tuck in your shirt. I'm trying to get money from these people and they won't let me in if we look any more like street rats than usual. Tuck in your shirt."  
  
"You'se gonna steal money?"  
  
"NO! just do it, you'll see."  
  
Race did as he was told and they entered the shop.   
  
Race didn't like it. Too snobby, like it expected something from you even before you entered, even Red looked nervous, but she walked as confidently as possible up to the front desk.  
  
"Yes, miss. Can I help you?" The sales lady was probably wearing one of the wigs from the front window and looked like she thought she was the Queen of Sheba.  
  
"I highly doubt it, but I can help you." The lady shifted uncomfortably under the glare of Red, who really felt like she didn't have time for the formalities. "I've come to sell my hair."  
  
Race almost fell over. Cut her hair? He loved running his fingers through the copper and gold waves, she looked like a queen with all up in a bun. She couldn't cut it!  
  
"Oh, is that right?" The sales lady looked indignant. "Let's see the merchandise."  
  
Red took off her hat and her hair fell down, strand by strand, to just below her waist. Race could just stare at it, transfixed. The lady was as well, it seemed, because it took her a while to speak.  
  
"I'll go get the manager. Don't move." She shot off up a flight of stairs like a bullet from a gun and a door slammed somewhere on the second floor.  
  
Race turned to Red. "You CAN'T sell your hair!"  
  
"Why ever not? I'm not using it, and I could use the money." She stated plainly.  
  
Race couldn't really give a very good argument so it took about twenty seconds to say anything. "Your hair is so pretty, don't cut it. Please don't." He knew he looked like a little boy asking for a candy but he didn't care.  
  
Red's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, well, it'll grow back, but if I die before I spend the money you can have it, if that's any consolation."  
  
"It's not..." He trailed off  
  
"Tell you what, you can run your hands through my hair one more time before I sell it." Red wasn't feeling sympathetic, but Race looked a lot like a little kid, and she loved that look.  
  
He stepped forward and put his arms around her, and then fairly buried his hands in her thick, bright, soft, red hair. Both were just then interrupted by the sales lady returning with a grouchy looking man. "Well, girl, let's see the hair."  
  
Red reluctantly removed herself, and her hair, from Race's arms and pulled her hair over one shoulder for the man to see while Race sat down. The seemed to be considering and calculating in his head for a long while before touching her hair briefly and then writting down a number on a peice of paper. Red picked it up. "Are you sure you can't pay me more than fifteen dollars?"  
  
Race fell out of his chair with a thump. "Fifteen dollars?"  
  
The man glared at Race and then turned to address Red. "Sorry, no more than that, but I'll need it today."  
  
Red seemed to be considering it and then turned to him, "Can you cut it no shorter than right here?" she indicated her earlobe.  
  
"Yes. But I'll need you to come in back to get it cut now."  
  
"Done." Red turned around before being escorted out, "I'll be out in a minute, Higgins, don't worry."  
  
"Too late." Race mumbled. He was rather upset and that worried him almost more then the loss of Red's hair. He never cared about silly things like hair before. Maybe having a girl was getting to him, it could be hazerdous to your health, you could never tell about such things.   
  
But her hair...he refused to let his brain finish the sentence, her hair didn't matter as much as he thought it did. But it DID and that was where the problem lay. Maybe it would look cute. See, there was another problem, before her he never thought anything was 'cute', he'd definately have to talk to Jack or someone else about this love business, it was a tiny bit too complicated for his taste.  
  
When Red walked out of the back room Race turned around so he couldn't see her, but, maybe it wasn't so bad...maybe. She walked up to him and turned him around. I am sorry to say it, but he paled visibly. He had no choice but to see her hair...a bit curly? and just longer than Bumlet's? but he looked into her eyes and there was Red. He relaxed.  
  
When Red had collected the money and they walked outside Red turned a corner before letting out a whoop.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH FIFTEEN DOLLARS!!!!!!!" She looked like it was Christmas come early. She danced around for a few mintues before settling down a little bit, but Race noticed something rather odd.  
  
"You've got a spring in your step."  
  
"It's possible that that's because my head's about five pounds lighter, and I have fifteen dollars in my pocket." She looked ready to do another victory dance but kept walking. "So, what do you think of the haircut?" She looked at him expectantly.  
  
Racetrack looked uncomfortable. "It'll take some getting used to." He knew that wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, but it was true.  
  
"I mean besides that and the fact that you wanted me to keep my hair, what do you think?"  
  
Race made her stop walking and made a small frame with his hands, jokingly peering at it from all angles, starting at the back. When he got to her face his hands dropped and he cocked his head slightly. "I like it. Can I see how it feels to run my fingers through?"  
  
Red grinned and nodded. She felt his hand pass over her head and to the sides through her hair and smiled. Race nodded in mock satisfaction. "It's much easyah, comm'ere." He pulled her into a hug. "You'se so beautiful." And he felt her melt into his arms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Selling on Monday was regular enough to be fairly boring and Red had gone to work that day so Race finally got to see her around seven at night. When Red entered the lodging house Race fairly dragged her to the fire escape right outside the window.  
  
"So, what's the job like?" Race asked as he sat right against the rail. Red sat down on the same step and folded her knees so she could lay her head on his lap.   
  
"Not bad, and I actually have half of my time off tomorrow, but the other boy who works the afternoon shifts with me drives me nuts. He and I have to wash dishes and after I get started he dissapears and I find him later, oh, in a closet, on the fire escape, on a box in the alley, dead asleep. He's a decent enough guy but he's lazier than a dog in August."  
  
Racetrack chuckled, he might like this guy. "What's his name?"  
  
"Robertson Aye. Odd name, huh? I've heard it somewhere before but I can't remember where for the life of me."  
  
"Someone you met in New York before?"  
  
"No. Definately not. It's more like I just saw him once, or some one told me about him or something like that."  
  
"Maybe you read about him somewhere." Race offered, though he knew that wasn't possible. Anyone that most people find worthy of reading about are much more interesting.   
  
"Nah, that couldn't be it, but I'm sure I'll think of it, if it really is someone I've heard about." She shifted slightly. "Tell me about your day."   
  
"Nothin' ta tell. When you left for woik I had two papes left and I lost 'em in a pokah game."   
  
Racetrack took off his newsie hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nah, not the same."  
  
"What's not the same?" Red looked very confused.  
  
"Da haih. I run my fingers t'rough mine but it's not da same as yours." He said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Can I try?"  
  
Race faked confusion. "What? Running your fingers through your hair?"   
  
"No, yours."  
  
"Um, well..."  
  
"Oh, please." She started to play with a curl and then, very softly, ran her small hand through his thick mop of curls. Her index finger then traced down his temple, then cheek-bone, then chin. "Are you perfect, Racetrack Higgins, or is it just me that thinks so?"  
  
Race smirked and took the hand that was still lingering near his face. "I's poifect. Any udduh questions?"  
  
"Yeah," Red teased, looking into his eyes, "Do you love me?"  
  
"Are you as stupid as a Delancy oah do I gotta spell everythin' out foah you?" He joked back.  
  
"You've gotta spell it."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm absolutely terrible at spelling." She noticed he was grinning.  
  
"I didn't know that." He was still smiling. "I's gotta go inside." He moved Red's head and got up, then walked to the window of the lodging house and climbed in.  
  
Red sat on the step for three more minutes before going in, the picture of loving annoyance, if such a thing exsists. She was still thinking about Race as she ran into Mush and fell to the floor. The boy was lauging as he helped her up.  
  
"Done with your smooching session?" He chuckled.  
  
"Shut up Mush." She shoved him away, but couldn't help it and smiled. "Yes, unfortunately. Mr. Brilliance over there," she pointed to Racetrack, "Doesn't think I'm very pretty." She faked a sad look.   
  
Now, Mush Mayers isn't exactly the most brilliant thing on the face of the planet. I mean, we're talking nice, but about as intelligent as a bull dog. He had a good heart though, and Red, I am sorry to say, took advantage of our adorable little friend.   
  
The disired end was acheived. Mush walked up to Racetrack and smacked him on the back of the head, almost giving Race whiplash and causing him to drop his hand, two pairs, and loose that round. Red, completely satisfied with how her elaborate scheme had worked out, washed up and got into bed.   
  
Around three minutes after she got into bed and was almost asleep she felt someone popping her toes, one by one.  
  
"Cease and Desist!!!" She yelled above the laughter comming from Mush and Race. Mush stopped laughing shortly before Race and walked off to join the poker game, leaving Red and Race alone.   
  
Race sat on the edge of her bed, still sniggering. "Don't you go tellin' stories on me again!"   
  
Red propped herself up on her elbows. "What was the whole thing out on the fire-escape then?"   
  
Race blushed. "I knew I was gonna tell ya a secret if I stayed a second longah. You'll see at Christmas." He stood up and was about to walk to his bunk, but was stopped by a freckled hand on his shirttail.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean? You got me a preasant didn't you! I told you not to get me one!"   
  
"And I's supposed ta listen?" Race asked, turning around.  
  
"Uh, yeah, kinda." Red answered.  
  
Race leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "I's gotta get a presant foah my goil. And, little miss picky, dere's nuttin' you can do about it!" He pulled the covers over her sholders. "Go ta bed oah it's gonna be hell foah me and Jack ta getcha up in da mornin'."  
  
Red gave him a final glare and then settled down into the covers, mumbling somthing about 'Jack and I' and fell asleep almost immidiately.   
  
************************************  
  
The next day was depressingly normal. Papes were sold and bought, card games were won, things were pretty much as boring as could be. Finally, at 7:00 Race had something to do: he was going to Tibby's to walk Red back to the lodging house. He arrived soon enough and went around to the back to get Red out of the kitchen. He knocked on the kitchen door, and heard noise inside, after which the door opened to a soaking wet, red-headed dishwasher in a dark blue apron.  
  
"Race! thanks for coming, I'm just now done. Come on in!" She grabbed his arm and steered him into the kitchen, now almost devoid of dishes, just a couple more stacks by the greasy dishwater. Red noticed him looking around. "Boring, isn't it? I have a terrible knot in the back of my apron, can you undo it for me?" She twirled around to reveal, quite possibly, the king of all knots. There was something like a sailors knot, and a square knot, and the knot used on gallows, all rolled into one.   
  
Race whistled. "Who did that?"  
  
"Robertson. I poured a basin of dirty dishwater on him when he was asleep on the crates outside earlier, then he tied the strings of my apron to a fair-thee-well when I was washing the plates, and then I snapped a dishtowel at him, hard, and then he dumped a basin of ice-water on me about three minutes ago." She said all this as Race was trying to undo the knot in her apron strings.  
  
"So, ya had fun widout me? tisk tisk." Race retorted sarcastically, trying to use his teeth to undo a certain part of the gallows knot.   
  
"No, of course knot, that's impossible." She grinned.  
  
"Ha, ha, very funny 'of course KNOT', just remember who's helping you out'a dis apron."  
  
"You done?"  
  
"Whinin' or untyin'?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"Almost." He undid the last square knot with a flourish. "Dere ya ah. All finished, can we go now?" He lifted the apron from around her neck and put his arms around her.   
  
She smacked him just lightly enough on the face for it to make a sound. "As soon as you let go of me. I have to say good-bye to Robertson."  
  
Race stuck out his bottom lip. "Oh, so you like him moah now, huh?"  
  
"Stick that lip back in, and no, I don't. I'm going to put syrup in his hat, ten to one he's still asleep." She slipped out of Race's arms and grabbed a bottle on the counter, heading for the coat rack near the door, where, on the shelf above it, was Robertson's hat, upsidedown and everything. "This is almost too easy." Red grinned and filled it up good enough so it would run and still stay in his hat when he put it on.  
  
"Youse dispicable, ya know dat?" Race said, admiring her handywork.  
  
"Oh, yes, I do know, and it's so much fun!" she chuckled and dragged Race to the door, grabbing her hat on the way out of the kitchen. 


	13. Confessions and Gingerbread

Hey-lo and a slap on the back to all my readers out there...and sorry that it's been a month since I've updated *feels guilty and shuffles feet nervously* BUT! This is just the first part in a Christmas Two-Parter that I have in store for you! But, don't worry, the second part won't take as long for me to update ^_^  
  
Now, for the...drum roll please...  
  
Boots: *Enters with a snare drum and starts a rhythm from 'Drum-Line'*  
  
OK! Although I find that infinately cool, and very cute, I must ask you to do the COSTOMARY drum roll!  
  
Boots: *Glares at Geneva* If youse gonna be dat way you can stop tinkin' dat I's gonna do any moah drum rolls foah you...oah save ya from dat evil disclaimah!  
  
Oh, well, SHOUT OUTS!  
  
Sapphy: I love your reviews! There, that's my belated Christmas presant to you. You are one of my most faithful reviewers and I must say that knowing that I will always get at least one review is a wonderful feeling. I am planning to do some revising as I go on, probably after the two-parter Christmas thing is over...which it almost is. I've found too many contradictions in my story, and I's gonna fix 'em! Be proud of me! Ah...yes, the razor...if I wear no stockings and knickers I'm not ever, for the life of me, going without my legs shaved nicely...sorry if that sounded mary-sueish...it wasn't meant to be.  
  
JustDuck: Another one of my favorites! Hello! Yes...if rich is the term then so be it. And Christmas will be quite a Brew-Ha-Ha...though I'm not quite sure of the exact definition of that. And foreshadowing is bad for your health...so please refrain. ::Shivers at foreshadowing::  
  
ShortAtntionSpaz: I totally know what you mean about the dragons...sheesh, I've had to beat them off with the stick every time, not that that's helped, but it keeps off the ketchup ^_^ And thank you, *Bows* for your marvolous review...it makes me *Wipes away tear* feel so loved...  
  
~Disclaimer~  
  
AAAAAAAA!!! NO! Save me from the disclaimer!!!  
  
Boots: Tol' ya once, I ain't doin' it!  
  
*Sobs* But, the disclaimer, makes me follow rules!  
  
Skittery: *Flies in with SuperMan costume on* Never! I shall vanquish the disclaimer! *procedes to vanquish*  
  
OH! Goody! Sorry ta Disney if they actually wanted to see that. It said that I didn't own Newsies...think of that! What a horrendous lie! ^_^ GEORGE CLOONEY'S LAUGH LINES ARE SOOOO HOT!!!! *Several Newsies step in to fan her...including Bumlets...Hehe*  
  
Ahem... Andyways, I love that word, on with the show!  
  
~~Strangers and Presents~~  
  
Here it was, and not a moment too late; Christmas-eve. Red smiled and shivered in her threadbare coat.  
  
"I'm dreaming of a green Christmas...just like the ones at Atitlan..."  
  
Oh, for Holidays in the tropics. Well, there may be people going swimming for Christmas where it's not a bazillion degrees below zero, but they also weren't going to have Christmas with the boys. It could get worse. Red stamped her feet in the falling snow, quite picturesque, but a tweensy bit too cold for her. She needed a sweater, and maybe Mr. Denton was going to give her one...he said he would...but his salary was low enough as it was anyway, he didn't need a burden like her to drain his pockets of what little he had. Especially after the strike.  
  
"Where the lake...glistens...and I listen..to hear...coffee being made..."  
  
She had the money, all of it, and kept putting her hand in her deepest pocket to make shure it was still there, along with the list of what else she needed. Red had gotten almost everything, except for the Christmas tree and a few odd cooking materials.  
  
"Red! I told you that you could come into my office to wait, it's plenty warm in here!" Denton was shouting from the second story window of the 'Sun' building.  
  
Red sighed. "I need to go now, Denton! I have the list!"  
  
The reporter hurried on down the stairs, after grabbing his coat, and came almost flying out the door. "You have it? And the money?" He was in the process of putting his coat on when he reached her, still rubbing her cold, red ears.  
  
"All right here. I need all of the stuff on the list and bring back all the extra money." Red rubbed her thinly mittened hands together, "But buy a pape from every Newsie you pass with a really good headline, especially if it's an improvement on one of yours."  
  
Denton smiled as he brought a parcel from behind his back. "Yes ma'am. And a Merry Christmas!" He shoved it into her hands and was off like a shot...to catch a carriage.  
  
Red caught her breath as she ripped open a small corner of the brown paper. It was a sweater; a lovely dark green one, very thickly woven. "Thanks Denton!" Red yelled back, suddenly full of smiles, "And a Merry Christmas to you too!"  
  
She had already given him his christmas presant. A small book with all of the mistakes made in headlines over several years, which Red thought rather odd, seeing as how she never knew that there were blooper books so far back, but Denton had loved it.  
  
Red hurried back through the snow, which was falling heavier and heavier by the minute. She had a Christmas dinner to make, and a plum pudding to, um, figure out. She tore the rest of the paper off of the sweater and threw it in a nearby fire in a barrel where some bums were sitting around, telling stories.  
  
"Merry Christmas, guys!" She smiled as she threw in the paper and dragged on her sweater, holding her coat in one hand, and then putting it on over her sweater.  
  
As soon as she got back to the lodging house she barged in throught the front door and started finishing up the work on the stuffing for the turkey, and brought out the apples she had already peeled for the pies. Apple pie, what a thought, Red hadn't had any in a long time. She usually had it on her birthday...  
  
A realization hit her like a brick: She forgot her birthday this year, she was now fifteen years old. "I really am getting old if I'm forgetting my own birthday, and I never even told anyone about it." She started chopping onions and talking softly to herself, among the blessed warmth of the small kitchen. Red stopped when she heard voices, male voices, obviously. It was Skittery, Bumlets, and Dutchy. It took her a moment to realize that they were singing.  
  
"Deck the halls with boughs of Holly..."  
  
She trooped out to meet them at the front door, joining in.  
  
"Hello, an' a good day ta youse, Red!" Bumlets, almost always an optimist and very often euphemistic, swept her up into a big hug.  
  
"A good day ta youse too, Bumlets. How was da selling t'day?" Red tried to hide the apple that was in her hands, that she had in her hand when she came out and hadn't noticed.  
  
"It's always good on Christmas-eve, an on Christmas. Lots'a tips. Whatcha got dere in yoah hand?"  
  
Red relinquished the apple to the hungry boys and watched as they shared it. "I's cooking back here, for anyone who wants ta help." She let them into the kitchen and set Skittery, who had made her angry recently, to chopping the onions, while she made the pie crust.  
  
One by one the boys came in, a few helping in the kitchen, the rest hanging around, smelling, tasting things, giving suggestions, singing carols and generally getting in the way. After about the fifth round of variations of "On the first day of Christmas, Weasel gave to me..." Red was just about ready to throw out the lot of them so she could finish her cooking.  
  
"BOYS!" God bless the Kloppah. "Get ta bed befoah I calls oaf Christmas!" Kloppman walked through the crowd in the kitchen, shoving the boys out the door one by one. Racetrack set down the apple he had been nibbling on and walked up to Red, holding out a cigar.  
  
"Foah 'my true love' dis is what I give ta youse," He stuck it in her grinning mouth with a flourish and a peck on the cheek. "Marry Christmas- eve Red!" He lit it and started up the stairs.  
  
"Night ta you too, Scabbah!" She called around the cigar as Race reached the top. He leaned over the banister and waved his hat.  
  
Over the next two hours Red finished the apple pies, had them stored in the cupboard, and was now starting on gingerbread, singing to herself, one of her favorite Christmas carols.considering it was talking about bar-hopping, although the only thing she touched these days was beer, and only occasionally. She was singing it out of tune, stinking in flourishes, and giggling to beat the band. "Here we come a wassailing among the leaves so green, and here we come a wand'ring, so fair to be seen." And she remembered something she had left upstairs in the bunk-room. "Dang it!"  
  
She wiped her hands on her ragged apron and started up the stairs as quietly as she could. Red had forgotten one of the packages, this one for Boots, upstairs in a cubby hole, that really wasn't supposed to exist but did due to a fist fight that missed and hit the plaster about two months ago. She stepped over dirty laundry and tip-toed over to the hole near.Itey's bunk. He was the lightest sleeper of all the boys. Just her luck, and she could never really sneak unless she was in her bare feet. She slipped her boots off where she was and tried not to gasp as the cold floor made contact with her stocking feet.  
  
Red slid over to the hole and extracted the parcel, knowing that it had not been seen, nor touched since she had placed it there. She held it gingerly, trying not to make a noise with the brown-paper wrapping it. Red slipped past the window, and paused. There was a man down there, in the street, quite close to the door, and out in that weather. Red raced downstairs, just remembering her boots and returning for them after she had reached the door. She pried open the front door after sliding down the banister to speed up her progress.  
  
He was hunched over.that morning's paper, and shifting his thin coat every other second.  
  
"SIR!" Red called out into the street, barely catching the man's attention. "COME INSIDE!"  
  
The man plodded towards the lodging house, his longish hair and beard flipping this way and that in the wind. He reached the front step and handed her the paper. "Buy me last pape, miss?"  
  
Red grinned. Anyone with a sense of humor at 20 below couldn't hurt a fly.and was officially in her good books for the rest of their life. "Come inside and have some coffee, you look frozen." She took off his coat and led him into the kitchen.  
  
"Making dinner, I see." He sniffed the air with a happy expression on his face, as if even knowing that someone was doing something nice pleased him immensely.  
  
"Yeah, and gingerbread, I haven't started yet. Here," Red placed a chair near the stove. "You need to get warm, sit here." She handed him his coffee as he sat.  
  
"So, how has your Christmas been so far?" The man asked, sticking his feet in the door of the stove and popping the paper in, making the fire grow slightly.  
  
"Not bad at all. I'm awful glad to be here, but I kinda miss my family, ya know?" She dumped some four in a wooden bowl she had placed in front of her. "Why were you standing out there?" Red indicated the street with her spoon as she re-read a section of her recipe.  
  
"Waiting.for Christmas."  
  
Red raised an eyebrow. "A nice thing to wait for, but why out in the cold? Did you just get off work?"  
  
"No. I'm never really off work."  
  
"What do you do?"  
  
"Well.I'm sort of a Jack-of-all-trades, rather like your band leader," He smiled. "But I mostly just fix things, and I'm a carpenter."  
  
"Do you like your work?"  
  
The man turned to look at Red, raising one eyebrow, and then running his fingers through his beard. "Yes, I like it a lot. Why do you ask?"  
  
"I guess, well, it doesn't really matter what it is, as long as you like it, right?" Red brushed a piece of hair out of her face, only to have it fall back again.  
  
"Quite true. Do you like yours?" He turned back to the fire, and sipped his coffee.  
  
"Yes, mostly, but as I said before, I miss my family." She cracked an egg on the side of the bowl and poured it in.  
  
"Where are they?"  
  
"Not here, obviously, but I got here, and I guess.well, I got lost. I don't know where they are, or how to get back, both of which would hinder my progress in finding them. I talked to a friend of mine a while back who came here later than me. She says that my family is having problems dealing with my leaving."  
  
"Why did you leave in the first place? Where they unkind to you?" He stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee.  
  
"Oh, no. I'm not sure I ever really wanted to leave. My parents are the kind everyone dream about, ya know?" She poured the finished batter into a bread-pan. "Really nice, talk to me 'bout everything, reasonable, and they love me a lot, and they tell me so, all the time. I miss them, and my brothers, and my sister." Red nudged aside the stranger's feet and put the pan in the small oven.  
  
"But you don't know how to get back? Didn't you ask your friend how?"  
  
"Yes, but she doesn't know how either." Red sighed as she poured the rest of the batter into the remaining bread-pan. As Red put this pan in she happened to make eye-contact with the stranger, and as she turned away she shivered.  
  
Fire and Ice, and Power, and Love, those eyes.  
  
Red decided to change the subject. "How exactly were you going about looking for Christmas?"  
  
"I'm not sure, really, it just sort of came to me, to find it, I mean." He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "Who was it that's doing all of this for those boys? Is it you?"  
  
Red paused and looked at him, almost thoughtfully. "Well, yes and no."  
  
"Which one is it?"  
  
"I hate to say it, but part of it is for me.not JUST the boys, though I'd like to think that most of it is." She felt almost ashamed, but shook it off and started pulling out the packages that she had hidden in the various parts of the kitchen and arranging them on the counter.  
  
"I see, but don't feel guilty. The human race can't help it, unless you're not human, and then I shall scold you quite harshly." The man smiled. "How long is that gingerbread supposed to stay in the oven?"  
  
"Another two minutes." Red answered, turning things over in her mind.  
  
"Well, I'm afraid I must go." The stranger stood up and set his coffee cup in the sink. "And don't worry, there'll be a way home for you soon."  
  
"But the weather." Red started to protest, she didn't want him to leave, it was the first time in a long time that she had talked about her family to anyone.except maybe Tigger, whom she visited regularly now. Race never wanted her to talk about it.he always avoided the subject anyway, so discussion was scarce.  
  
"Never you mind the weather, you have to get Christmas ready for those boys.and thank you."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For helping me find Christmas." The man smiled as he pulled on his overcoat and stepped out the door, but before he closed the door, Red's mind felt like it had been snapped open.  
  
"Sir! Wait!"  
  
He paused on the bottom step. "Yes, Geneva?"  
  
Red shivered again and she looked again into his eyes, and tossed him the apple she had in her apron pocket, the one she had saved for herself.  
  
"Happy Birthday."  
  
*******************  
  
Did anybody get it?  
  
Please R&R...no matter who you are...no matter what your time limit, I just want reviews...just a line or two, please? 


	14. Engagements, Storms, and Pants

Hey ya'll! I'm so sorry I'm this late but I had to keep up my vigilance in terms of my schoolwork, 'cuz it was the last of the quarter. It has paid off, however, and I now have a 96.00 average : P so phooey to all you who think I'm a nerd, for I AM! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!  
  
Ahem, anyways, I watched Scary Movie 3 last night...  
  
Boots: Oh, really?  
  
NO! I'm just screwing with you! Ha ha ha ha ha!  
  
Dude, I loved that movie! Review if you thought so ^_^ Anyway, I was terribly annoyed last night, as I was being visited by three P.G. Wodehouse characters after the movie. There is this strange thing that happens to me, it's when all these characters from different books or movies come to visit me. It's awfully trying and they always manage to eat all my brownies and drink my Pepsi. To all of you who do not know who P.G. Wodehouse is, he is a remarkable British writer with a whole collection of crazy characters, and I was visited that night by :  
  
Bertie Wooster: a man who was born rich, excentric, lazy, and has never done a day's work in his life and most of his time is spent on strange pastimes such as playing the trombone badly and trying to play matchmaker for his friends...who've never worked either.  
  
Jeeves: You never learn his last name, it's just Jeeves. He's Bertie's butler who always seems to know everything that's going on and manages to get his employer out of the strangest of circumstances, including in-laws to-be and friends who can't count.  
  
Aloria Glossip: The most annoying, she slaps everyone on the back good naturedly...but usually makes them fall over in the process. She is loud and catches men who can't speak for themselves and tries to make them marry her...usually not succeeding, due to the brilliance of Jeeves.  
  
Newsies: Jeeves Rocks!  
  
Indeed he does...and, as a special treat for you all, he is going to deliver the disclaimer and answer the shoutouts!  
  
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.  
  
Yes Jeeves, Indeed, but do go ahead, *Addresses readers* You won't kill him will you? Will you?  
  
I think they said no.  
  
Jeeves: Thank you, miss. Now, the first Shout out goes to... Wisecracker88: Yes, miss, being blond is a terrible burden to carry. However, if you have earl gray tea in the afternoon and take some tonic water just before you go to bed, you should have your cranial region in tip- top shape by the next morning.  
  
JustDuck: Rereading is a pleasure, miss, but, if I may say so, your shoelaces are untied and that can result in a terrible fall down a flight of stairs, miss.  
  
Sapphy: Miss, if I may suggest, going around renouncing home is not always the most intelligent thing to do for yourself in the long run, as your family might read it and find it necessary to...  
  
Alright Jeeves, that'll be quite enough. Now, on to the disclaimer!  
  
T_T Disclaimer T_T  
  
*Shuffles through stack of papers* JEEVES! I lost my disclaimer!  
  
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.  
  
It indirectly stated that I OWNED Newsies!  
  
Jeeves: In which case, you would most likely have been sued, miss.  
  
Well, that too...Jeeves, you wouldn't happen to have done something to it, would you?  
  
Jeeves: Miss?  
  
Oh, never mind. Just say whatever you want, Jeevsie, old pal.  
  
Jeeves: Miss Rockeman does not own Newsies, and would like to inform the Disney Lawyers, that she bids Harry Sherman, vice president of the council, a happy birthday.  
  
I do?  
  
Jeeves: Yes, miss.  
  
Right, I do! Anyway, tally-ho, eh Jeeves?  
  
Jeeves: Indeed, miss.  
  
~Engagements, Storms, and Pants~  
  
It was snowing, four o'clock on Christmas morning, and Spot Conlon couldn't sleep a wink.  
  
"Tiggah, what I's gots ta say is, well, dat, I love youse and I wanna be wid you foah da rest o' me life," Spot seemed to consider his last sentence, made to thin air, but then his nose wrinkled. "DAT STINKS!"  
  
Spot almost threw the ring in his hand on the dirty floor and continued pacing. The ring was extremely small, and it was only a jade, but it was all he could get, seeing as how he had to pay Race back for the past five poker games he lost. Race had to get his girl a present too.  
  
But even though that was taken care of, THIS was going all wrong, he couldn't think up a good speech and he had to propose to Tigger before she went anywhere. Meaning, he looked at the clock on his wall and found that he had only one hour left before he had to drag Tigger someplace out of the way and propose.  
  
But he had been trying to think of something since seven o'clock last night, and nothing sounded right. It was either too sappy, or stupid, or, like the last one, very un-Spot like.  
  
Spot flopped down on his lumpy mattress and considered his situation. He was, at nearly eighteen, terribly in love with a fifteen-year-old girl, which was ridiculous, and he wanted to marry her, which was loony, and he was trying to think about which kind of proposal would be best.  
  
What was happening to him? He used to be the most respected and feared Newsie in New York City, and now he was nearly being reduced to tears by a GIRL!  
  
Yes, indeed, nearly reduced to tears. Mostly because of exhaustion, but frustration can be very motivating. He had to say, or do, something, or he swore he would go stark-raving mad, and he did. Spot Conlon fell asleep a half-hour before he was supposed to wake up.  
  
"HEYA SPOT!" An extremely cheerful voice rang out inside his own bedroom and his left eye-lid pried itself open, just in time to see a tallish blond figure literally skip over to his bed. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"  
  
Spot tried to make his smiling muscles work...but nothing happened, and his right eye-lid pried itself open. "Heya ta you too, but ain't it kinda oily ta be up, Tiggah?" Spot was now officially on the edge and wasn't sure he could be civil any longer, not that Tigger could take offense. There fights usually went something like this...  
  
Tigger: You are such a jerk! I hate your guts, How could you!  
  
Spot: I's sorry Tiggah.  
  
Tigger: Oh, OK.  
  
And he was forgiven, zip, like that. She was very odd, but then again, she WAS friends with Red, who was as strange as they come, outside of Skittery, and Dutchy. He propped himself up on his elbows and motioned for Tigger to sit next to him. She was certainly cheerful enough this morning; she skipped, again, over to him and sat down. Spot pulled her down to him and into a short kiss.  
  
"Dere, much bettah." Spot declared as he scooted his suspenders up to his shoulders and walked out of the room.  
  
Tigger looked confused for a minute and then followed him out of the room. "What do you mean, 'much better'?" She called down the hall, trying to find Spot in the clutter of the Brooklyn lodging house.  
  
"It helps me wake up in da moanin, and I didn' sleep well."  
  
Tigger still looked confused.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE AAAAAALLLL THE WAAAAAAAYYYYY" Snipeshooter rode down the banisters with Red's hat, and Red coming after him.  
  
"Do you want a fat lip, Snipe?"  
  
"OH WHAT FUN IT IIIIIIIIISSSS TO RIDE IN A ONE HORSE SOAP AND SLEEEEEEEIIIIGH!" The newsboy had no mercy and was now pouring chestnuts that he had nicked the day earlier into her hat.  
  
"It's 'One horse OPEN sleigh', and if you don't shut your pie-hole right now and give me my hat it's gonna be a 'One horse open SLAY'!"  
  
Snipeshooter glanced up at the girl, faking offense. "Ya wouldn't kill me, would ya, Red?"  
  
"You wanna see if I would or not?" The redhead shot threateningly.  
  
Snipe tried to dive into the kitchen but no sooner had he taken a step towards it then his way was blocked by Red, hair everywhere and fuming. She grabbed Snipe by his collar and had him in a head-lock before you could say 'Here We Come a' Wassailing'...which Jack was doing at that very moment, at the top of his voice.  
  
"Moanin, Red." The tall boy announced between his singing, ruffling her hair and starting to walk out the door, only to find his way blocked by a struggling Snipeshooter and a now laughing Red.  
  
"Take him with you, for the love of Pete, or I'm gonna go crazy!"  
  
Jack just smiled. "Merry Christmas ta you too. Do ya want me ta drag Spot and Tiggah back wid' me?"  
  
"Merry Christmas, and yes, bring Dog-face and Robertson too."  
  
"Wow, dat big a ta-do, huh? Well, I'll make sure dey's oal commin'. You do know dat I's stallin ya, jus' foah da sake a a real good practical joke." Jack raised an eyebrow and smirked.  
  
Red shot him a double take. "What do you mean, 'a real good practical joke'?" She looked around her, and wished she hadn't. There they were. How they had sneaked up on her like that she didn't know, but they were baring down on her like a pack of lions, all of them...  
  
The Boys  
  
Skittery grinned. "Whatcha say, huh, Cowboy? Now?"  
  
"Yeah, now's good."  
  
Red looked confused, and was. She took a step back, and ran into Swifty, who was giggling so hard he had to lean on Itey.  
  
"Heya, Red, ya know how ya always said dat you'se nevah had a white Christmas befoah?"  
  
Red nudged Swifty aside, only to run into Mush, who was looking taller than usual. "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh?"  
  
"Well, I'm guessin' dat means youse neva been stoamed?" Jack was enjoying this immensely, and Red was growing more and more nervous by the second.  
  
"What's stormed?"  
  
"Well, foist," Specs grabbed her arm to prevent her escape, and Boots grabbed her ankles.  
  
"We take ya outside and we hold ya, right ovah a snow bank," Red's eyes got wide.  
  
"And den, he shove ya in, drag you out," Jake grabbed her other arm.  
  
"And repeat da procedure several times, and den, we take ya out," Red's mouth hung down to her waist.  
  
"And put snow down yoah pants, shoit, shoes, a little up yoah nose in yoah mouth, and DEN," Red started to struggle for real, and Dutchy and Pie-Eater picked up her feet, sending her swinging between the four boys.  
  
"We hold ya down right in front a da buildin' and pour dat moahnin's wash watah ovah youse."  
  
Red looked somewhere between desperate, swearing a blue streak, and laughing. "You wouldn't...um, guys, Don't go out that door! PUT ME DOWN!"  
  
She tried to kick, but it was no use. "JACK! I'M GOING TO KICK YOAH SORRY EXCUSE FOAH A BUTT FROM HEAH TA KINGDOM COME!"  
  
Red stuck her limbs out as far as she could and then yanked them back in fast, pulling herself out of the boys' grip. She rolled over quickly and squirmed her way over the shorter boys and shot up the stairs with the whole crowd of boys in hot pursuit.  
  
Boots was the first one to the landing and called down below. "She's going up ta da top floor!"  
  
The boys were already climbing over Boots, yelling such taunts as they could while sprinting like mad.  
  
"Ya can run, but ya can't hide!"  
  
"Come and get nice and cooled off!"  
  
"We's gonna getcha!"  
  
"NOOOOOOO!!!"  
  
Unfortunately, the 'NO' came from Red, who was crouched in a corner of the third floor and was nearly giggling like mad-woman.  
  
Dutchy bent down to grab her arm and Snoddy reached down to grab her other arm...and so, bit by bit, our poor Red was paraded down the stairs by a mob of warm-hearted boys who were quite getting into the spirit of things...even Skittery.  
  
"Jack...Please..." Red panted, trying to stop laughing long enough to plead for her life.  
  
"Nuttin' doin' Red. I've waited foah months ta do dis."  
  
"Boots! You...gotta...save me!"  
  
"Nuh-uh! You put that spider in my bunk last week...I intend to do you great damage, as far as snow is concerned."  
  
"RACEY!" Red was grabbing at straws...and she knew it.  
  
"Don't worry Red, I's gonna give youse a good kiss befoah dey drop ya in so you'll be nice an' wahm."  
  
There were a few whoops, which did not do anything to improve the spirit of the poor redhead.  
  
The boy's carried her outside talking, non-concerned with the person slung between the lot of them and when they arrived at the Distribution Center all of them headed to a large snow-bank and, rather nonchalantly, threw her in.  
  
Jack grabbed her arm and dragged her out again. "Now...would youse like it down yoah collah, or yoah pants foist?"  
  
"I plead the fifth!"  
  
"OK, down da collah it is. Come on guys!"  
  
The process of storming was rather complicated, but, sooner or later the snow had worked its way sufficiently up Red's nose, into her ears, down her coller...and her pants, and was soaking her hair.  
  
For some reason or another, however, Red was complaining.  
  
"FRICK! It's COLD!"  
  
"Yeah, Snow usually is." That voice...Racetrack.  
  
"Where's my kiss, you doity rotten scabbah?"  
  
"Racetrack Higgins looked ovah da hole in da snow where his beloved lay, dead as a doahnail...befoah clutching his hand ovah his haht...Like so...and saying: 'Geneva, me love, I was yoah knight in shinin' armuh, and I failed dee, so I shall plant one on yoah kissa, ta rememba youse by."  
  
Race picked Red out of the snow by her collar and...needless to say...  
  
"Dat was pretty pathetic foah a knight in shinin' armuh!" Red complained as she smacked Racetrack on the face, just hard enough for it to sound.  
  
"And wid dat, the Knight buried his beloved...like so..." Race plunged Red back into the snow-bank and threw a full shovel of snow over the top of her, "and kissed her grave...like so...and walked away, his soul silently weeping."  
  
"YOUSE not gonna be weepin' SILENTLY when I get t'rough wid YOU, RACETRACK HIGGINS!!!"  
  
"Such a savage heart, even in death...I shall miss dee."  
  
"You SUCK!" Clearing the snow out of her mouth and nose, and wondering when the snow that had worked it's way down her collar would melt and run down her underwear, not that the other snow already hadn't.  
  
She trouped up to the crowd of boys, plugging one side of her nose and trying to blow the snow out of the other, and ran up to the group, just to find them staring dumbly.  
  
"You guuuuuuuyyyyyyysssss...what's going on?"  
  
Nobody answered.  
  
"Race, tell me I'm seein' things, just tell me I'm seein' things..." Boots was rubbing his temples.  
  
Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Naw, you ain't seeing things..."  
  
"Dat's Sarah!"  
  
"In pigtails!"  
  
"In PANTS!"  
  
"Standing in line at the distribution center!" The last was Red, who was walking up to Sarah as everyone stared.  
  
Sarah seemed completely unconcerned. "Hey Red! How's it going?"  
  
"Um, fine, I think, but, you don't mind if I ask..."  
  
"What I'm doing here?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that."  
  
Sarah tugged thoughtfully on one of her pigtails before answering. "Well, I cussed out my boss."  
  
"Oh, you cussed out your--WHAT?" Red tried to regain her bearings and took her hat out of Snipeshooter's hands and stuck it on her head, taking Race's cigar out of his mouth and taking a couple puffs. "OK, so, what happened?"  
  
"Well, he was being a jerk today, like he always is, and then I was trying to finish this piece of sewing, and my fingers really hurt and I accidentally sewed two stitches onto my skirt. He blew his top, and called me a bunch of names before I decided I was even more pissed than he was and I called him a..." Sarah leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered something into Red's ear, but everyone's surprise greatened when she kept whispering, and whispering, and after about three minutes Red started giggling madly. Before long Red was clutching her sides and tears were rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"Well, welcome to da newsies, where life always sucks and the food's awful...or so Skittsy thinks."  
  
Sarah let out a long loud guffaw that pried Snipe's eyes as large as saucers. "Hey, where's Jack?"  
  
"He's looking at yoah butt. Dose pants ah pretty tight on ya."  
  
"Yeah, I had to find David's biggest pair. His butt's so friggin' small."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed, but I still say dat cowboy's enjoyin' da view."  
  
Sarah snorted. "Well, I've gotta get his attention SOMEHOW...he spends so much time sellin' and 'tomorrow's headline'."  
  
"I know, but aren't you gonna get yoah papes?"  
  
"Yeah. Commin' with me?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss it foah da woild Sarah, not for da woild." The two girls approached the window grinning, completely oblivious to the crowd of bemused boys standing behind them.  
  
Jack was quite interested in the spectacle. "Heya, Race, whatcha think'a oal dis?"  
  
"I plead da fifth."  
  
**********************************  
  
Ha HA! I have ya'll hooked now! There are THREE parts to this Christmas section...so now you'll HAVE to stick around *^_^* REVIEW...say it with me...RE- VIEW...RE-VIEW... 


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